


The Joining of the Three

by QuidditchMom (eibbil_one)



Series: Remember Me Trilogy [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Pre-Order of the Phoenix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-16
Updated: 2010-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 72,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eibbil_one/pseuds/QuidditchMom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been six months since Remember Me ended, and something dark is hovering on the horizon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Ron was at his desk, checking the past week's invoices for the store. More to the point, he was pushing them around without really paying any attention to them. Try as he might, he just couldn't concentrate on work. Ever since the wedding, he'd been feeling strange. Not sick, not tired…just strange. Over the past week, though, the strange feeling had become a pit of dread in his stomach.

Something was wrong.

He'd checked with his parents, his siblings, Harry, Hermione…just about everyone he knew only to find that all was well with them. Nevertheless, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone he knew needed him.

He'd had this feeling before, many times in fact. But everyone he'd had the feeling about was accounted for…unless one of them was lying. Ron had half a mind to visit each member of his extended family with a Sneakoscope. He snorted at the thought of the looks on their faces if he did. "Paranoia isn't an attractive trait, Ron," he said to the empty shop.

Ron pushed back from his desk and prowled the front counters, rearranging displays that were already perfect, cleaning counters that were already spotless. Restlessness and dread were coursing through him, along with the unmistakable urge to _do_ something.

Whatever this feeling was, it was growing more intense every day.

 __

 _Ron…_

He whipped his head around suddenly at the vague whisper. He was alone in the shop, but the sound had come very close to his ear. Adrenaline surged through him and a cold sweat dotted his forehead.

 __

 _Ron, I'm in trouble._

He was out the door before he knew where he was going, calling her name.

Ron was halfway down the High Street before he stopped running. Where the hell did he think he was headed? Shaking his head and rubbing his temples, Ron walked back to Weasleys and engaged the anti-opening charm.

Still muttering to himself about running into the street like a fool, Ron went to his apartment over the store. While it was true that she was the only one he'd been unable to contact over his "something's wrong" feeling, he hadn't thought much of it.

That wasn't exactly true, but it was hard to contact someone that didn't want to be found.

He padded silently to his bedroom and changed into pajama bottoms for bed. Meaning to at least catch up on the day's news, he went back into the apartment's main room to retrieve the _Prophet_ from the kitchen table.

 __

 _Ron…_

The voice was weaker, but at least he recognized it this time. Fighting the urge to run once again, he settled into the leather chair near the fireplace and answered it the only way he could think of. Concentrating all his efforts, he thought of her face, her voice.

 __

 _Mariah?_

A wave of relief flooded him. And then the pain began…deep, searing pain through his hands and feet. An almost unbearable tightness seized his throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe. His eyes were open, but the only thing he could see in the dim candlelight was a door about five feet away.

He couldn't see her. He tried to turn his head to look, but it was restrained somehow. His vision was limited to what was directly in front of him. Then he realized that he was seeing through _her_ eyes.

 _Mariah? Where is this place?_ Ron asked with his mind, because his voice didn't seem to work. But there was no answer, just a growing fatigue spreading through him and an icy sadness sinking into his heart. Before he could question her again, the door swung open with a bang. A tall man stood there, silhouetted by the blinding sunlight coming through the door.

Ron blinked and nearly yelped in surprise. He was lying on the floor in front of his chair, a sheen of cold sweat covering him.

He walked to the small kitchen and poured himself a very large glass of water. Ron drank it with his hands shaking, then cursed at himself for spilling half of it down his bare chest. He grabbed a towel and mopped up the mess.

Halfway back to his bedroom, Ron paused at the fireplace. Maybe he should get in touch with Harry, find out if he could shed any light on the matter. Ron didn't know how Harry could explain away Ron's falling so heavily into slumber that he slid to the floor without waking, but he felt the need to at least discuss it with him. Ron stopped with his hand poised to light the fire.

"That's just what they need, Weasley," Ron said to the empty room, "you interrupting them in the middle of the night over a bad dream." The idea would have appealed to his practical joking twin brothers. But he knew Harry and Hermione. If they even suspected that something was wrong, they'd be at his side in a heartbeat.

Until he figured out exactly what was going on, his nocturnal activities would stay private. Because he couldn't shake the feeling that what he'd seen was no dream. Could Mariah be trying to contact him? Was she really in trouble? _And if she was … what, Ron? You whisk off to the dungeon where she's being held captive and rescue her? That's about as plausible as Harry leaving Hermione for Hedwig._

If only he could contact her. If he could just get word from Mariah that she was fine, he could put it all behind him. But he couldn't. She'd disappeared six months ago, and he'd been unable to find any trace of her. Whatever was going on with her, she didn't want to be found. At least, not by him.

The last time he'd seen her had been the night of the wedding. After their exchange prior to the wedding ceremony, he had resolved to leave her alone as she'd requested. He didn't like it, but it seemed important to her, so he'd done as she asked. His resolve crumbled as Harry and Hermione had begun to dance.

Ron walked to the window and watched dawn break over the town. He could still hear the music in his head, still see Harry and Hermione swaying, their hands entwined and eyes seeing nothing but each other. Warmth had spread over him then, just as it did now.

But that night, the warmth had turned into a lump of emotion, a longing for what his best friends had found together. Instinctively, he'd glanced over at Mariah, surprised to see tears falling unnoticed down her cheeks. Silently, he'd led her from the table, into the garden area behind the hall and had drawn her into his arms. They hadn't spoken. He'd simply held her while she cried. After a few moments, he'd asked her why she'd left him so abruptly before.

 __

 _"Ron, please," Mariah pleaded. "I told you I can't have contact with you. It's for your own good."_

 _Ron felt fury rising within him, tired of being told what was best for him without any input. He let go of her and began to pace. "Well it doesn't feel too bloody good from where I'm standing, Mariah. Based on the tears on your face, you're not feeling too happy about it either. Why don't you tell me what's going on, and I'll decide for myself?"_

 _Mariah looked at him for a full minute before heaving a great sigh and nodding. "Okay, but can we go somewhere else? Somewhere private?"_

 _Seconds later, they were in Ron's old bedroom at the Burrow. It was the closest place he could think of that would be completely deserted as the whole family was at the reception._

 _"Okay," Mariah began, taking in a deep breath. "There was a reason I was with my parents the weekend I found Hermione. I had just received some unwelcome news. I'd found out I'm a Diviner."_

 _Ron stared. Seventh year, they'd touched on different branches of Divination in Trelawney's class. From what he could remember, Diviners were witches, primarily American, that had some sort of telepathic powers. He couldn't see why that would cause her to run off and told her so._

 _"There are things about the Order that I cannot discuss, Ron. Just know that my leaving you that night was the best thing. The only thing. For both of us."_

 _Mariah buried her face in her hands and wept silently. He was drawn to her like a magnet to its polar opposite._

 _"It's all right, Mariah," Ron soothed, gathering her into his arms and letting her tears soak his shoulder. When the crying had ebbed, she'd raised her bloodshot eyes to his. He meant to kiss her forehead, but somehow his mouth got lost and ended up on hers. He could no more have stopped himself kissing her after that than he could stop the tides._

And he hadn't stopped at kissing, either. But by the time he'd awoken the next morning, the pillow next to him had been empty, the tangled sheets cold. Mariah had left him again.

In every relationship he'd ever had, Ron had taken the lead. From first kiss to final fight, he'd called the shots. Not with Mariah, though, he snorted. While he'd kissed first, she'd fled soon after. Twice, he grimaced.

The first time she'd left him, he'd been hurt. The second, he'd been devastated. And since both times had been after rather intimate encounters, Ron was beginning to get a complex about _that_ particular skill.

"This is pointless," Ron grumbled and headed back towards his bedroom, the now familiar ache pressing against his chest. "She left you, and you can't handle the rejection. Time to put her behind you and move on."

But he couldn't seem to follow his own advice. The odd sleep pattern persisted for three more days. Each night he'd sit in his chair, each morning he'd awaken on the floor exhausted. He knew the purple creases beneath his eyes were getting more and more pronounced, but the more he slept, the more fatigued he felt. He was just thankful that Harry and Hermione were wrapped up in the beginning of a new term at Hogwarts. They weren't popping in, their eyes full of questions he couldn't answer.

He'd decided to give it one more night. After that, he'd take out his decrepit Potions cauldron and attempt a sleeping draught. It didn't matter that Potions was the one class he'd been worst at. Anything had to be better than this.

He was standing at the window, a glass of warm pumpkin juice in his hand when he felt the hairs on his arm stand up. Before he could blink a blonde woman Apparated right in front of him. She was tall, her face a maze of cuts, scratches and bruises. The robes she wore were voluminous, but filthy and ragged. Her arms were outstretched; she was reaching for him.

She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a guttural croak, but somehow he heard the words anyway. _Help me. Tell no one._

And then Mariah fell to the floor in a dead faint.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry stood at his office window looking down over the grounds. Many former students had a fondness for Hogwarts once they left. For him, though, it was almost a reverence. Twice the ancient castle by the lakeside had saved his life -- first from a miserable existence with his horrid aunt and uncle, and second from the aimless, wasted life of a man mired in grief.

After they'd left school, Harry and Ron had moved into Hogsmeade to set up a branch of his brothers' joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. But Harry, unable to cope with the apparent death of his best friend Hermione, had taken to spending most of his time drunk in the Three Broomsticks, instead.

Everyone had watched his decline, but no one had commented on it, at least not to his face, until Professor McGonagall had spoken up. Grinning, he could still remember her words. "For heavens sake, Potter. I seriously doubt Miss Granger would appreciate you going to pieces like this. Shape up."

And so he had. It had taken a while, though. Ron, with some help from a mysterious message, had rescued him from the bottle and had given him hope. Dumbledore had given him a job. And then, miracle of miracles, an American witch named Mariah had helped him find Hermione.

But as it turned out, finding Hermione had been only half of the battle. An aftereffect of the _Avada Kedavra_ counter charm she'd written had caused her to lose her memory completely. He could still see her, sitting behind the desk of the library where she worked, looking at him with no knowledge of who he was. It had been like a sword through the heart.

Slowly, through dreams and real life encounters, she had begun to remember. First, she had begun casting spells without knowing what she was doing or why. Then, she had grown to know him as a polite British stranger that had happened into her library. Finally, after a traumatic encounter with him in her flat, her memory had returned.

Six months ago, the journey they'd begun after knocking out a mountain troll in a girl's bathroom when they were eleven had ended, when she'd become his wife. Their new journey together had begun.

Some of his married friends had told him to expect a few bumps in the road of married life, but Harry figured they'd already had their bumps…in spades. He had to constantly control the urge to shout out his happiness. He didn't want the other teachers to think he'd gone mad again. Or at least, madder than his wife.

Just then, a loud thump hit the office wall and he could hear Hermione swearing. Fighting laughter, he walked through the door adjoining their offices and poked his head in.

"Everything all right, love?"

"No, it's not all right. Unless we fit every witch and wizard who uses this bloody counter with a tracking device, they'll never be heard from again."

Harry, used to his wife's ravings over her imperfect charm, casually walked behind her. He scraped her hair to the side and placed a gentle kiss to the base of her neck. Without comment, Hermione stood and raised her wand towards the door that opened to the hallway. He heard it slam shut and lock as she turned into his arms and kissed him back.

As it had been from the beginning, a single meeting of mouths wasn't enough. One taste and he turned into Dudley at the dinner table…greedy for every last bit of her. His hands fisted in the bushy brown hair she'd let grow. Her fingers threaded through his own unkempt hair, teasing the nape of his neck with her fingernails.

"This promises to get interesting," Harry groaned as her lips found the sensitive hollow beneath his ear. "But I've got a class in five minutes."

"Spoilsport," she grinned then looked back at her desk. The only things on it were a large glass container filled with spiders and the wand she'd dropped as she kissed him.

"Not going well, then?" he asked tentatively. Any conversation about her work these days was liable to send her into one raving mood or another. Hermione had focused on perfecting the counter charm and teaching her one class in her usual tenacious fashion.

There had been a bit of tension between them the previous month after she'd contracted the flu. Harry had wanted her to go straight to Madam Pomfrey, but Hermione had refused because it would put her behind schedule. He'd asked how she could schedule charm writing, but she'd only glared at him.

"Ron should be pleased," she said stiffly. "I am single handedly depleting the spider population of the United Kingdom. Every time I try it, they disappear."

"Memories intact?" Harry felt like living dangerously today.

"You're a riot, Potter."

"And you're beautiful, Mrs. Potter."

Hermione gave him a wicked smile that said she was planning on making Harry _very_ late for his class, but just then an owl swooped through her open window, dropped a letter on her desk and left.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"It looks like a letter. But as I'm horrid at Divination, maybe I'd better actually open it," she smirked as she opened the envelope. She scanned it briefly, then sank into her chair.

Harry picked it up and read. There was no salutation.

 __

 _I am writing to inquire as to the whereabouts of Miss Mariah Jamison. She left us six months ago to attend your wedding and has not yet returned. Any information you could provide would be greatly appreciated._

 _Kalena_

Harry glanced down at Hermione. Her face was blank. "Have you heard from her, love?"

"No. But as her letters were sporadic at best before the wedding, I didn't dwell on it too much. I wonder who Kalena is?"

"You don't think Ron's heard from Mariah, do you?" Harry asked.

"I don't think so, but he's still mighty touchy on the subject. I mentioned her name in passing just last week, and he nearly removed my head. But I think it's worth asking again. Something's up with him. Whenever I talk to him, his ears go red."

"A sure sign he's hiding something," Harry agreed. That was the nice thing about enduring friendships…no secrets. When Ron was nervous or lying, his ears went red. Hermione bit her lip. He wasn't sure what his outward sign was, as neither one would tell him, but they always knew when he wasn't being entirely honest. It was like having two walking Sneakoscopes wherever he went.

"I'll just go this evening and drag him off to the Three Broomsticks. He usually gets talkative over a pint." Harry placed a furtive kiss on Hermione's forehead as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of his class.

^*^*^*^*^

Harry walked through to the back office of Weasley's later that evening and knocked briefly on the door. Ron called a hurried "what is it now, Lissanne?"

"First off, it's not Lissanne," Harry grinned as he walked through the door.

"Sorry. My new assistant's after me every five minutes with questions. What are you doing off school grounds, Professor?"

"Haven't seen you in a while. I just thought I'd stop by. Maybe take you to the Three Broomsticks for a pint."

"Hermione kick you out already?" Ron grinned. _But there go the ears_ , Harry thought.

"No," Harry laughed, "although with her mood swings these days anything's possible."

"Charm still giving her fits?"

"Yeah, she's sending spiders off into the unknown by the dozens, though. She thought that'd make you happy."

"She feeling any better?" Ron asked casually, knowing Hermione had suffered through a bout of Muggle flu right after a trip to her parents.

"I guess. She's not as sick as she used to be, but it still bothers her occasionally. And yet, she refuses to go to Poppy. Says she doesn't have time." And Harry'd had about enough of _that_ reasoning.

Ron forced a smile, but then frowned. "Sounds like Hermione. Listen, Harry, I'm gonna have to pass on the pint. I've got somewhere I've got to be just now."

Harry stood alone in the office after Ron Disapparated. The first stirrings of worry were beginning to unfurl in his stomach. It wasn't like Ron to be so secretive, not with him. But he respected him enough to wait until he was ready. Smiling inwardly, Harry decided to give him a week. Then he'd beat it out of Ron if need be.

"Excuse me, Mr. Weasley," a tall Australian witch with flowing brown hair came bustling into the office. "I was wondering about these inventory sheets…" She broke off when she realized who was standing there instead.

"Sorry," Harry smiled. "Ron just left. Can I help? I used to work here a time or two."

"Uh…no…it's okay…er…Mr. Potter," the witch stammered. Harry swallowed the chuckle that was bubbling up in his throat. After all the years of dreading being recognized, he'd finally grown to see the humor in it.

"I didn't realize Ron had hired an assistant," Harry stated, making it sound like a question. If he couldn't ask Ron, maybe Lissanne would know more about his friend's odd behavior.

"Just last week," she smiled nervously. "He told me he's working on something that will require him to be away from the shop a lot."

"He didn't tell you what he was working on, though?" Harry prodded.

"No. I assumed it's something for Weasleys, even though his brothers are the inventors. But he is gone quite a bit. That's why I'm after him whenever he's here. It's driving me mad, one minute he's in the office, the next he's gone." The bell over the door jangled and Lissanne excused herself.

Once back at Hogwarts, Harry went straight to their quarters.

"Well?" Hermione asked before he could even remove his cloak.

"It's getting curiouser and curiouser," Harry sighed, grinning with Hermione's reaction to his quote from Alice in Wonderland. Harry sat on the bed, removed his shoes and lay back among the pillows, feeling as though he'd accomplished nothing on his trip to Hogsmeade. "Ron's hired an assistant."

"There's that much business these days?" Hermione sounded both pleased and doubtful.

"No. The assistant, Lissanne, said he's gone quite a bit though. Sometimes Disapparating without even telling her he's leaving."

"That's not like Ron," Hermione stated thoughtfully. "Suppose we better get over there on the weekend and hash it out?"

"You get to do the hashing, love," Harry said, pulling her onto the bed beside him and wrapping his arms around her. "I'll just sit back and enjoy the fireworks."

And, smiling, they found other things to occupy their time.

^*^*^*^*^*

Ron walked into the quiet room and stopped just inside the door. She was asleep and he hated to wake her, but he was tired of all the questions plaguing him. He was tired of the secrecy. And he wanted answers. He'd done everything she'd asked for the past week, and now, he wanted the reasons behind her almost desperate need for secrecy.

"Mariah?"

She stirred as much as she could, a slight toss of her head and shifting of her shoulders. Whatever had happened to her, she was still very weak from it. As far as he knew, she hadn't been out of this bed since he'd magicked her there. Logically, he knew she'd made it as far as the bathroom, but he hadn't seen her on her feet once. Whenever he was around, she remained huddled beneath the quilt on the bed.

 _Seven days_ , he mused. Seven long days since she'd collapsed at his feet. Seven days of caring for her, and worrying about her…and hating her for throwing his life into an uproar once again.

After assuring himself that she was alive the night she had collapsed at his feet, he'd levitated her to his bed, covering her with the quilt. Her face, though cut and bruised, was fuller, as was the rest of her. He'd kept his eyes firmly on her face, though. Any thoughts that included activities below the neck were only dooming him to further heartbreak, so he'd steered clear of them. He'd adopted, as best he could, a brotherly attitude toward caring for her. So far, it was working.

When she'd awoken, he'd discovered that she couldn't speak. He'd given her water, and when that hadn't worked, he'd started wracking his brain for vocal spells. Mariah had put a rapid end to that with a wave of her hand and a weak smile. Then she spoke to him…in his mind. He'd been even more disconcerted when he'd found that she could also read his thoughts.

If she knew why, she wasn't telling him.

"Mariah?" he asked again and this time her eyes flew open. "It's okay, just me."

 __

 _What's wrong?_

"Nothing," Ron muttered, suddenly feeling bad for waking her over something so trivial.

 __

 _If it's bothering you, it's not trivial, Ron._

"I asked you to stop that, Mariah," Ron sighed, then crossed the room to sit on the chair next to the bed.

 __

 _Sorry, but when you scream things in your head, it's kind of hard not to hear them. Now what's wrong?_

"Nothing, really. Harry was just downstairs. He knows I'm hiding something, Mariah, and I don't know how much longer he'll let me lie to him. I don't know how much longer I want to."

 __

 _Ron, I told you. No one can know I'm here._

Even though he was only hearing her voice in his head, he could still hear the sadness in her words. "Why, Mariah? What's going on?" He wasn't much on cloak and dagger stuff anymore. That had been during his Hogwarts days. After You Know Who had died, he'd been very glad to put that part of his life behind him.

 __

 _I can't…_

Ron stood and prowled over to the window. "I've had it with that, Mariah. And it ends now. You either tell me why your presence here is such a great secret, or I take out an ad in the paper announcing your address."

 __

 _That's blackmail._

"Damn right it is. You appear battered and unconscious in my house, without your voice. Then you tell me, in my head no less, that I have to keep you hidden and that I have to place wards around my own apartment to keep anyone from sensing your presence here. I hate lying to my friends, and I won't continue without a good reason."

Ron paused to calm himself down. After several deep breaths, he continued. "What happened to you, Mariah? I need to know."

Her eyes closed. Ron could see her shoulders rise and fall with each breath she took. And when she looked up at him again, the tears in her eyes almost floored him.

 _You're right. And I'm sorry I've been so secretive. The truth of it is, I didn't know how to tell you._ She paused and took in a deep breath. _When I left your house after the reception, I decided to take some time to myself before heading back to America…to think. I wandered all over London. Throughout the week, I had the eerie impression that someone was following me…almost stalking me. It took the better part of a day to narrow it down to a tall, blond man I'd seen on more than one occasion. Once I'd figured out who it was, I tried everything to elude him, including Concealment Charms and random Disapparations. I did this,_ she indicated the rather stark change in hair color _, as a last ditch attempt to hide from him. It didn't work._

It sickened him to think that while he had been cursing her for leaving him, she'd been terrified and running from a stalker. "Who was it?" Ron said sharply, barely controlled rage swimming within him.

 __

 _I don't know. I've never seen him before in my life. He cornered me in Harrod's, put some sort of spell over me that prevented me from Disapparating and took me off to this old castle. I've been there ever since. I tried several times to escape, but he caught me each time. After every attempt, something was taken. Lesser amounts of food, bedding, that sort of thing._

"Did he hurt you?" Ron interrupted. He'd wanted to ask if he'd touched her, assaulted her in any way. His mouth had refused to form the words.

Mariah wouldn't meet his eyes. _I don't think so_ , she answered vaguely. _Not until the end, when my escape attempts came closer and closer together. My last try, I got as far as the gates to the castle before he caught me. That must've scared him, because after that one, I was locked in a basement room and shackled to the wall. That's when I starting trying to contact you. And I have to apologize for draining you like that, but he was feeding me very little and I needed to get my strength back if I was going to escape again._

"Draining me?" Ron asked, stunned. Mariah looked at him, tears falling from her lashes, leaving wet trails down her cheeks. He was at her side a moment later, wiping them away with his thumbs. "Tell me, Mariah. Please?"

 __

 _I wouldn't know where to start, Ron._

"Start with how I can hear your voice in my head and end up with how you could 'drain' me," Ron suggested.

 __

 _It all has to do with my being a Diviner. Do you remember back in America, when I ran off?_

"Vividly," Ron said blankly, and he was rewarded when she gave him a teary smile.

 _When I was in the bathroom, I noticed this on my wrist._ She pushed her sleeve up to show him a black band there. _It's a Bonding mark. The Order was trying to Bond us together, Ron, because of what happened. But I couldn't allow that. You deserved more than to be saddled with me hanging around for the rest of your life due to a set of circumstances you knew nothing about. When I left you, I went straight to the head of the Order, Kalena, and begged her to remove the mark. Because you are a wizard, she agreed. The Bond was removed provided I had nothing more to do with you._

"But then we made love again, after the reception," Ron continued, beginning to get the picture.

 __

 _Yes. The mark returned that morning, and I knew there was no releasing you this time. I just hoped that the distance between Britain and America would be enough to keep you from knowing._

"Knowing what?"

 __

 _That we were Bonded. It's more than just a mark on the arm, Ron. A Diviner can communicate with her Bond without words, as you've seen, can feel his feelings, and, in some cases, draw energy from him. I think it's stronger between us because you're a wizard._

"That's the second time you've said 'because you're a wizard', Mariah. Why should that make any difference?"

 __

 _Because it's never happened before. Diviners are only born of witch mothers and Muggle fathers. We're forbidden to Bond with wizards. Preservation of the Order, Kalena calls it. I don't know why, that's just the way it's always been._

"But if it's forbidden…" Ron trailed off.

 __

 _Your guess is as good as mine as to why the mark came back. I assumed because I'd gone against my word to Kalena about avoiding you at the wedding. Truth be told, I half expected her to summon me home that morning, but she didn't._

Ron stood and walked slowly to the window. After a week of silence and shunted questions, his brain was on information overload. Unfortunately, the more questions she answered, the more he came up with. Some of which he wasn't entirely sure he wanted the answers to.

"But why was this man after you, Mariah?"

 _I don't know, Ron._ Mariah's eyes settled in her lap where her hands were clenched together over the bunched up comforter.

However, he got the distinct impression that she did.

^*^*^*^

 _"Avada Kedavra,"_ Hermione pointed her wand at the spider she'd just placed the counter on. _Zip_. It was gone.

"Bloody hell," she muttered under her breath, placing her head in her hands. If anyone had told her years ago, after Moody's class, that she'd be repeatedly performing the Killing Curse on spiders, she'd have laughed herself hoarse. Yet here she was…

"Hermione?" a voice at the door asked, and Hermione raised her head.

"Come on in, Minerva," Hermione sighed.

"Am I disturbing your work?" Minerva McGonagall took a seat opposite the desk.

"Please, disturb me," Hermione smiled. "I'm about ready to fling the whole mess out the window and tell everyone it was just a fluke that I survived." She looked over at the new supply of spiders from Hagrid and felt her stomach roll slightly.

"You'll get there, Hermione. You're the most persistent witch I've ever met." They spoke for a few minutes, but Hermione was having difficulty concentrating on her words. The rolling in her stomach was getting worse.

"Minerva, please excuse me," Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth and ran for the small washroom in the hallway. When she came back in, Minerva was still there, her arms crossed at her chest and a rare smile on her face.

"Hermione, how much longer are you going to keep denying it?"

"Denying what?" she asked.

"That you're pregnant."

The women's eyes met as the words seemed to bounce around Hermione's brain. _Pregnant?_ She thought. That was ridiculous. She couldn't be pregnant. She was just wrapped up in the counter and still shaking off her bout of flu.

 __

 _But that was over a month ago, and you were feeling queasy before you went home. Come to think of it, you haven't felt well for about three months. And it has been three months or so since …_

"Merlin's beard," she breathed. "I've got to go, Minerva. I want Poppy to confirm it before I tell Harry."

"Go right ahead," Minerva smiled again and watched her run from the room.

^*^*^*^*^

At the opposite end of the castle, Harry was reviewing his lesson for the incoming second years when the shadow of three Gryffindors -- David, Zach and Katia -- darkened his doorstep.

"Professor Potter?" asked Katia, the leader of their little group. Last year, he'd noticed similarities between these three and another Gryffindor trio. And those similarities grew every time he saw them together.

"Come on in." They walked into the room and stood around his desk. The déjà vu was almost overpowering. He checked his watch, then met their eyes. "You're a bit early for class, what can I do for you?"

Both boys turned to Katia and waited for her to speak. "We were wondering if Professor Granger was all right?" Although Hermione used his name in everything else, they'd decided to use Granger for her professional name to cut down on confusion.

Harry's stomach gave a slight lurch. "Why?" he asked, somehow managing to keep his voice even.

The tallest boy, David, answered. "I saw her running towards the Hospital Wing right after lunch."

"But my older brother told me she was teaching her afternoon Muggle Studies class," Zach added quickly.

"Then I'm sure she's fine," Harry assured them. As the rest of their class began to arrive, the three took their seats.

Harry couldn't keep his thoughts from straying to Hermione. He knew that she was fine, that if anything serious was wrong he would have been notified. But a small sliver of dread hung over him. She'd been ill on and off for too long for it to be a simple case of flu. And something had to have happened for her to finally agree to see Poppy. But he had a class to teach, so he tried to push the disturbing thoughts to the back of his mind.

^*^*^*^*

"Mione?" Harry called, pushing the apartment door open with enough force to slam it against the wall.

"Harry?" Hermione said, rising from the window seat.

"Are you all right?" he crossed to her immediately, taking her hands in his. If he'd been thinking clearly, he'd have noticed that she looked like Crookshanks after a bowl of cream.

She led him over to the window seat and they sat facing each other. After a few minutes of heavy silence, Harry finally spoke. "You planning on telling me? Or am I supposed to dust off the Divination skills? If you're sick, just tell me…"

Hermione had raised a hand to stop him, so he held his tongue. "I'm trying to find the right words, but I can't seem to phrase it properly. Harry," Hermione took his hands and smiled into his green eyes, "I'm pregnant."

"You're what?" he said softly, his mind going in a thousand directions at once.

"Pregnant," Hermione said, happiness radiating from every inch of her. "Poppy just confirmed it. She says I'm about three months along. Harry?" She finally noticed his expression. "What's wrong? Aren't you happy?"

There was no answer. Harry simply stared at Hermione, his face blank and his hands tightening painfully in hers.

"I'm a lot of things right now, Hermione. Happy is a fair bit down on the list." His voice was as harsh as she'd ever heard it…cold and distant.

Pulling his hands from hers, he quickly stalked to the door. He turned, gave Hermione one last unfathomable look, then slammed the door shut behind him.

Hermione felt a fist reach up and grab her heart.

^*^*^*^*^

"Milord?" a timid voice sounded behind him. He turned with such speed she nearly lost her footing.

"Renae." Just hearing him use her name in that silky, sinister way made her want to cringe. "What word is there?"

"None, milord. There is no trace of her to be found. I've used every resource available to me, and I can't find her."

"Then I suggest you find some new resources," the man spat back at her, then banished her with a flick of his hand.

So. The witch thought she could escape him, eh? Thought she was smarter than him by hiding did she? Well, she was about to find out that he was no one to fool with. His plan had many facets. Her imprisonment here had been the most straightforward approach, but was by no means his only option. He simply had to shift gears. The groundwork had been laid. He still had time.

After all, he mused, she was only a stepping stone towards what he really wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

"Licorice twist," Harry muttered, stepping aside as the secret entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office swung open. He'd spent all night flying around the grounds on his old Firebolt, thoughts and ideas running through his head like renegade bludgers. How could this have happened? How could she have _let_ it happen? _Because you didn't give her any reason to be on guard, you great prat_ , Harry berated himself. _That'll teach you to go against your instincts._

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said as he stepped in front of the Headmaster's desk. "What can I do for you so early in the morning?"

"We have a problem," Harry said, then took a seat. "Hermione's pregnant. I just found out last night. I'd have come here straight away but I had some…er…thinking to do."

"I can imagine," Dumbledore said quietly, his eyes lowered. "How is Hermione?"

"Thrilled beyond measure, but probably ready to pitch me headfirst off the Astronomy Tower after my reaction."

"Didn't do backflips, eh?" Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling behind the half moon glasses. Harry didn't know how he could still be humorous after hearing the dire news.

"Kind of hard to jump when your feet have turned to lead. You know what this means, Headmaster. The timing is right."

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore sighed. "I still think you're making too much out of this. In fact, the more I hear from the Ministry about the scroll, the more I'm sure the whole thing is an elaborate hoax. "

"But Headmaster," Harry began, but Dumbledore raised a hand to stop him.

"Now, Harry. I will admit that the news of Hermione's pregnancy gives me pause. But I think we needn't worry until we have just cause."

"And what would you consider just cause, Albus?" Harry stood to pace the office, completely unaware that he'd just used Dumbledore's first name for the first time.

"Harry, sit down," Dumbledore said quietly and waited until Harry acquiesced. "Now then. The scroll that you received has been translated for the most part, and it does foretell many dark and dangerous happenings. But it is far too detailed and specific to be taken at face value. Let's find out if it's authentic before we start manning the battlements, shall we? In the meantime, I'd say you have some bridges to mend with your wife."

"But…"

Dumbledore interrupted. "Since you were an infant, the eyes of the wizarding world have followed you. And maybe we looked to you more than we should have. I daresay it's made you a bit more prone to look for the bad in every situation. For now, try and let it go. Let the Ministry worry about portents of doom while you enjoy this wonderful gift with your wife. I'd say you've earned a break. And if you need to break your silence about the scroll to Hermione, then do it. Keeping panic out of the wizarding world is one thing, marital harmony is another."

Harry muddled over Dumbledore's words all the way to the staff tower. Maybe he was right, maybe the whole thing was a hoax. Harry hoped that was true. He prayed it was. But if it wasn't? _Down, Potter_ , Harry scolded himself, _we're going to have a baby. Reckon you could concentrate on that for a while?_ For the first time since Hermione told him, Harry allowed himself a slight smile.

As he reached the landing and approached their quarters, he grew nervous. There was no question that Hermione would be mad at him. The question was how mad? And would she still be speaking to him?

And more importantly, would he still be _able_ to speak after she'd transfigured him into a rat for Crookshanks to play with?

^*^*^*

While Harry was talking to Dumbledore, Hermione was tossing and turning in bed. She'd spent the night springing to her feet at every sound, waiting for Harry's return. But he hadn't come back. As dawn's fingers threaded their way through the window, Hermione realized she'd be getting no more than the few fragments of slumber she'd managed. She threw the covers off in disgust, dislodging an extremely angry Crookshanks.

Tentatively, she flattened her hands over the small rise in her abdomen. How could she have not known? Smart as she was, how could she have overlooked the signs? Despite the sadness in her heart, she smiled. _Obsessive Hermione strikes again_ , she thought. Work on the AK rebound and her new duties as part time instructor for Muggle Studies had kept her so busy...

But now she knew. Knew she was pregnant. With Harry's child. The thought delighted her. Enthralled her. Scared her. Poppy had told her she was about three months along. That gave her six months to read up on babies, parenthood and so on. She just hoped that Harry would want to learn about these things with her -- but his skulking out of their apartment last night hadn't left her very optimistic.

She was still alternating between anger, worry and sadness over Harry's reaction but the feelings were less intense than they'd been the night before. Hermione was sure that he'd just been shocked. That once he let the news of his impending fatherhood sink in, he'd be as overjoyed as she was. _And if he isn't?_ A horrid little voice whispered in the back of her mind. If he wasn't, well…she'd deal with that, too.

Not bothering with her dressing gown, Hermione rose from the bed and walked to the full-length mirror outside of the bathroom. Still awed by the idea of Harry's baby growing within her, she couldn't seem to stop looking for signs of it. She pulled the fabric of her nightgown taut across her stomach and saw that their child was already making itself known. _Not by much,_ she thought, _but I can tell._

Harry walked in at that moment. Apparently, he could tell as well. His eyes immediately flew to the change in her shape, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Where did you go?" Hermione asked quietly, knowing that this conversation was more important than any they'd ever had.

"Quidditch pitch," Harry said in a monotone. "Then I stopped to talk to Dumbledore for a few minutes."

They stared at each other. Harry's green eyes, full of remorse and love, met Hermione's cinnamon ones, full of worry and love. The love won out and he sank to the bed, covering his face with his hands. "I'm sorry, Mione. That was a rotten thing I said last night. It just came as a bit of a shock…we've never even talked about children. Forgive me?" His voice carried a hint of the boy he'd been, locked in a cupboard and denied nearly everything.

Hermione was at his side in a flash. "Of course I forgive you. But I reserve the right to throw it in your face for the next fifty or sixty years. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough," he agreed solemnly.

She crouched in front of him, taking his hands away from his face, desperate to see acceptance in his green eyes and a little frightened when she didn't. "It's normal to feel a little scared, Harry. This is a big step, for both of us. But we've got at least six months before the baby arrives. That gives us loads of time to prepare."

"It's not just that, Mione. There's something you don't know," Harry said softly and stood to pace again, running trembling fingers through his hair. "About five months ago, a scroll was sent to me anonymously. It was very old, tattered and nearly illegible. Translators at the Ministry have been working on it ever since and have discovered that it contains a prophecy. It foretells Voldemort's rise and fall, as well as the next evil to cross the wizarding world. A child born dark, a Daemonica."

"Daemonica?" Hermione's brow furrowed. "I've never heard of it."

"No one has, but that was one of the first words translated. According to the scroll, this child will be born five years after Voldemort's final downfall. And that happened nearly five years ago, Hermione."

Hermione was stunned. She'd expected Harry to tell her he was nervous, not about an ancient prophecy. Especially one that said she may be carrying a demon child. Her hands immediately clutched her stomach protectively.

"What does Dumbledore think?"

"He's sure the whole thing is a hoax, says it's too specific to be a true prophecy."

Hermione, who hadn't taken her hands away from her stomach, raised watery brown eyes to his. "And what do you think?"

"I…" he began, then made his decision right then and there. He may still harbor fears that the prophecy was true. He may worry for the remaining six months of Hermione's pregnancy, but right at this moment, Hermione needed reassurance. She needed to believe that it was nothing. "I think he's right."

Exhaling in great relief, Hermione flung her arms around Harry's neck. They lay back on the bed, Harry cradling her in his arms. Instinctively, his hand sought out her stomach. When he felt the slight rise, his breath caught in his throat. "A baby," he breathed.

"Our baby," she smiled and turned into his kiss.

^*^*^*^*^

Ron stared at the letter in front of him, wondering at exactly which point his life had begun to spiral out of control. Had it been when he'd kissed Mariah? Or did it go all the way back to fighting off that bloody troll with Harry? When it came down to brass tacks, he supposed it had all begun with his sitting with a rather shy, black haired, green eyed boy on the train to Hogwarts.

If he'd just crammed into the crowded compartment with his brothers, he wouldn't have the myriad of problems coursing through his brain right now. Okay, maybe that wasn't quite true. But in a brief moment of inner child tantrum, he wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe that had he made different friends at Hogwarts, he wouldn't have turned into the current dumping ground for the troubles of his closest friends. Unfortunately, he believed in fate just enough to accept that he, Harry and Hermione would have become close no matter where he'd sat that September morning.

That didn't alleviate the confusion and worry battling for prominence in his thoughts, though. Just to keep it straight in his own head, he ticked off the current load of troubles he was contending with.

Mariah was hidden in his apartment upstairs, still battered and weak, just beginning to recover from her abduction -- the same abduction that had left her without a voice. Not to mention that he was Bonded to her, whatever the bloody hell that meant, and that he was almost positive she was lying to him about something.

Harry had just left from telling him that Hermione was pregnant. News he'd imparted with all the enthusiasm of a man talking about an upcoming confinement at Azkaban. The whole time he'd spoken, he'd kept fiddling with his glasses and Ron knew that Harry was keeping something from him, or lying to him, as well.

Then, just a moment ago, he'd gotten an owl from his sister, wanting him to meet her at her favorite London café. The same sister whom no one in the family had set eyes on in months. And Ginny's letter gave him strict instructions to not reveal _her_ whereabouts to anyone.

Bollocks, with all the secrets he was expected to keep these days it was a wonder his head didn't explode.

"Lissanne?" Ron called from his office. "I've got to leave for a bit. Can you handle things for the rest of the day?"

"No problems I hope, Mr. Weasley?" she asked as she walked up to him.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Ron said with a self-depreciating sigh.

He Apparated just inside the Leaky Cauldron a moment later, and immediately walked through the door leading to the Muggle London streets. He didn't much like London, but the café Ginny had found was the one exception. CrossRoads was run by a wizard and his Muggle wife and attracted mostly the younger generation of both the wizarding world and the Muggle one. An added bonus, in Ron's mind anyway, was that they accepted wizard gold. Not having to deal with the exorbitant Gringott's exchange rates was always a plus.

Walking quickly, he made his way through the crowds of people on the sidewalks, scanning the people sitting out front as he drew nearer. Her flame red hair was impossible to miss, especially when she was standing and waving at him like a groupie at a Quidditch match.

"Ron!" She called to him, her face beaming with happiness.

His face, however, was twisted in exasperation. "Where the bloody hell have you been?" he asked without preamble.

"I'm fine, Ron. How are you?" Ginny asked, some of the light leaving her eyes.

"Sorry," Ron felt immediately contrite. "Had a Mum moment there. How have you been? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's wonderful," Ginny beamed back, her face so filled with joy even her freckles appeared to be dancing. "Just wonderful."

"Glad to hear someone's life's going according to plan," Ron muttered, then signaled a passing waiter for coffee. He'd have liked something stronger, but couldn't risk the loosening of his tongue, not with all he had hidden in his head.

"Why do you say that?" Ginny asked, sipping her tea.

"Nothing, just muttering to myself. So what's all the secrecy about, Gin? Where _have_ you been? While the letters are nice, Mum's getting a little concerned that you haven't been to see them."

"I've been…er…busy with something."

"Care to elaborate?" Ron was growing weary with the secrets and deception surrounding him these days.

"Let me ask you something first. Have you ever met someone and felt a, I don't know, a bond with them right from the start?"

Ron nearly knocked over the coffee the waiter had just placed before him. Mentally shaking his head at his sister's use of the word "bond", Ron placidly picked up his coffee cup and studied her over the rim.

Ginny was always an exuberant person, except when she'd been around Harry those first few years at Hogwarts. But there was something different about her, something…more. He guessed that whatever was making her so happy was doing so from the inside out.

"Can't say that I have," he said finally, ignoring the image of Mariah's face that sprang into his head, "except with Harry and Hermione. I am assuming that you have?"

"Yes. That's where I've been. With him."

"But why does your being with him prevent you from seeing your family?"

"It doesn't, Ron. I'm here with you now, aren't I? I just…well, I got an owl from Mum yesterday. She's hinting that she's going to come and find me if I don't show up soon. And I'm not ready to bring this man into the family chaos yet -- it's still too new. I just want more time for us before the rest of the Weasley clan gets a chance at him. Do you understand?"

Ron did. If his mum got news that Ginny was bringing a man home to meet them, she'd have Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George and him there, ready to size him up. The same thing had happened to Iain when she'd first started dating him. The poor bloke never went to the Burrow again, if memory served. Ron supposed that having six older brothers had its drawbacks when it came to dating.

"And you want me to tell Mum that we've had coffee today, that you're fine and not to go chasing after you, right?" Ron guessed.

"Yes," she sighed out her great relief.

"I trust I'll get to meet this man eventually, though? Someone's got to find out if his intentions are honorable," he grinned at his sister, then the grin faded as she frowned slightly.

"You will, Ron," she stated a little too forcefully. "I need to find the right time. I mean, I know our relationship isn't going to always go smoothly. I know there are going to be problems in the future, but I also know that with him beside me they'll all seem trivial."

Ron watched her as she left the café a few minutes later. Her words were echoing around in his head. He suddenly felt very bad about the way he'd been acting towards Mariah. Ever since they'd talked, he'd been avoiding her. Well, not so much avoiding her as…yeah, he'd been avoiding her. And he got a sick feeling in his stomach because of it.

He stood, placed some money on the table and began to walk slowly towards the Leaky Cauldron. Once he got back, he'd spend more time with Mariah. Talk to her, try and find out more…he almost tripped when the sick feeling came back again. Only this time it felt more like pain.

And this time, he swore he heard Mariah's voice along with it. Ron didn't run so much as walk very quickly back to the Leaky Cauldron, Apparating to his apartment within seconds of the pub door closing behind him.

"Mariah?" he called as soon as he was back in the apartment.

 __

 _What? What's wrong?_

"That's my line," he panted, opening the door to her room. "I was in London with Ginny and I felt…sick. I got the feeling it had something to do with you." Saying it out loud, he felt like a foolish prat. Probably the same way Harry had felt after taking the second task's song seriously.

 _My stomach was a little upset just now, but it's nothing._ Ron watched her lower her eyes, and felt like a prat all over again, but for different reasons this time.

"Mariah," he said, then paused. "I want to apologize. I've acted like an idiot ever since you told me what happened. It's not your fault you were abducted. It's not your fault you ran out on me…twice."

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Well, okay, maybe _that_ was your fault." They both smiled, and Ron's chest suddenly felt lighter.

 __

 _I'm sorry for all of that, Ron. For putting you in this position. I didn't know where else to go._

"I'm glad you came to me, Mariah." Tentatively, he moved to the side of her bed and sat on the edge. "Really. And let's make a deal, you and I, okay? From this point on, no more apologizing."

Mariah looked up at him, blue eyes shimmering. _Deal._

"I'm getting hungry," Ron placed a hand on his stomach and checked his watch. "Definitely dinner time. So what's say I go out and bring something home from the Three Broomsticks?"

 _I'd say that sounds wonderful_ , she smiled. Ron thought the smile actually reached her eyes this time. For the first time since she'd Apparated here, she looked like the Mariah he'd known in America.

An hour later, they were surrounded by the remains of their dinner, still talking. He'd never been a sharing kind of man, but found himself spilling out all the problems that had been lain at his feet. Hermione's pregnancy and Harry's odd reaction to it. Ginny's disappearing act to wherever she was now and whomever she was with. As he talked, he began to feel much better. As if, by just by talking to her, he'd become less encumbered, less stressed. Maybe, he thought, having Mariah here wasn't such a burden after all.

 __

 _I don't get Harry's reaction, though. I wonder why he didn't sound too pleased about Hermione being pregnant. Doesn't he want children?_

"I dunno. That's not the kind of thing wizards usually talk about. We're men, we talk about Quidditch, and…Quidditch." Ron grinned and Mariah followed.

 __

 _Do you?_

"What? Want children?" She nodded. "I've never really thought about it. I mean, my two older brothers have kids, and I love playing with my niece and nephews. Yeah, I'd have to say I would like children some day. Then again, knowing my luck I'd end up with Weasley Twins." He shuddered.

 __

 _What would be so wrong with twins? A friend of mine had them and they were wonderful. She said it was difficult at first, but…_

She stopped as Ron raised a hand, his face breaking out in a wide smile. "I said _Weasley_ Twins, Mariah. There's a difference. Trust me." He thought fleetingly of Fred and George and the mischief their mum had handled through the years. "I'd better clear up this mess, though, before it starts to congeal or something."

He gathered up the used plates and containers and carried them to the trashcan in the kitchen. His stomach was still a little on the empty side, so he decided to run down to Honeydukes for dessert. Not knowing Mariah's candy preference, he walked back into the bedroom without knocking.

"Mariah, how'd you feel about dessert? There's a great sweet shop just down the…"

The words stuck in his throat. His hand gripped the doorknob and his knuckles turned white as his brain struggled to comprehend the sight before him.

Mariah was out of bed, standing at the dresser, a drawer open in front of her. It was the first time he'd seen her on her feet since the wedding reception. Ever since she'd been here, she had remained huddled beneath blankets. And now he knew why.

Mariah was pregnant.

^*^*^*^*

"This can't be," he said with quiet desperation, flinging the paper in his hands across the room. The young woman across the table from him to dropped her fork with a clatter.

"What is it, milord?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. Over the course of their -- association, for lack of a better word - Renae had learned to keep her mouth shut when his voice dropped. The angrier he was, the quieter he got. And he hadn't spoken above a whisper for days.

"We must act," he spat out, pushing his chair back and pacing the length of the large, empty dining hall. "There has been nothing here," he indicated the stack of newsprint spread before him. "Nothing at all about the scroll."

"Did you expect there to be?"

"Yes. While she was here, I didn't care much. But the plan demands that they take that scroll seriously. There are leaks all through the Ministry. They shouldn't be able to keep it this quiet. Unless they don't believe…no, that's not possible."

"Perhaps a prod in the right direction, Milord?"

He stopped pacing to stare at her. His eyes drilled into hers, but her gaze didn't waver.

"A prod," he said softly. "A warning. What a wonderful idea. That will erase any doubt. And then a little something to back it up." A gleam entered his eyes and he resumed his seat. "They should be gathering for their evening meal about now. You'd better prepare for travel while I work out what you are to say."

"As you please," Renae left the dining hall and went to her room. She dressed in a long flowing teal robe. Hoping, praying, that someone would interpret the message she was about to give correctly.

^*^*^*^*

Harry sat at the long head table, a forced smile plastered to his lips. Every teacher in the school, as well as all of the students, now knew Hermione was pregnant. The school grapevine had kicked into high gear, taking only three days to spread the news. And because Hermione had insisted on telling Sirius, Remus and Molly and Arthur, it was spreading to the wizarding world just as fast.

Congratulations kept coming from every direction, in person and by owl. But with every word of good luck, doubts began to creep back in. Harry had managed to keep his thoughts to himself, but every new fear started a swarm in his head like angry bees. Each new fear stung his brain until all he wanted to do was scream.

Deep in his heart, he missed his own father immensely. At the same time, he cursed him. His mum had gotten pregnant with him in the midst of Voldemort's reign. What had they been thinking? Had James Potter felt this sense of foreboding while his mum carried him? Was he repeating history? Would his own child be orphaned by evil, as he was, or would the child be evil reincarnated? The questions, doubt, and fear were festering under his guise of happiness.

He wanted to talk to Sirius about his fears. If anyone knew his father's thoughts before Harry had been born, it would be his godfather. But he didn't feel right putting these questions in a letter. And if he Apparated to him, Hermione would know he was still worrying. After his initial reaction, he was doing his level best to keep Hermione from sensing anything less than excitement from him.

Next to him at the table, Hermione and Minerva were laughing about something. The sound of her laughter both grated on his nerves and brought sadness to his heart. He wished he could be as happy about this as she was. Mostly, Harry wished he believed what he'd told Hermione days ago, that the prophecy was a hoax. But deep down, he didn't.

"Harry?" Hermione looked at his plate then at him questioningly.

"Not hungry," he said softly, pushing the uneaten dinner away. Movement caught his attention, and his eyes suddenly riveted to the rear doors of the Great Hall.

A tall, slender blond woman was walking towards them. Her bright teal robes swept the floor behind her as she approached. Her face was as blank as stone. All talking ceased as students at all four house tables gaped at the stranger walking towards the head table.

"Can I help you?" Professor Dumbledore asked, as if this sort of thing happened all the time.

"The time is ripe and the Daemonica comes. Guard yourselves now from the horror that awaits you, if you can. Five years evil has waited, and it will wait no more." She paused and took a deep breath. Placing her right hand tightly around her left wrist, she nearly whispered the rest. "He has come back to his country" the woman gasped as a look of searing pain slashed across her face, "protect the Triuna Crudus."

She turned and walked quickly back down the aisle. It took the teachers only a moment to get to their feet, but when they followed her to the entrance hall, there was no trace of her.

Ten minutes later, the Great Hall had been cleared and the students were safely tucked into their houses. The teachers gathered in the main staff room while Dumbledore checked with the prefects and ensured himself that no student was unaccounted for.

"Well," Dumbledore began, as soon as he entered the staff room. "That was unusual."

Dumbledore had cast furtive glances towards Harry and Hermione, but hadn't spoken to them directly yet. "I'm open to speculation." Silence descended. Everyone was still reeling from the woman's pronouncement.

"She was American," Hermione said quickly, then felt like a moron for stating the absolute obvious. Her mind was too occupied with alarm to control what her mouth was saying. "But she had a mark on her wrist, almost like a bracelet but it was tattooed on her skin. I saw it before she covered it up."

Once Hermione had broken the hush of the room, everyone began speaking simultaneously. Ideas, theories, suggestions. Dumbledore tried to corral the comments but they were flying too fast and furious. He finally took a seat and let the teachers talk themselves hoarse.

"First priority," he said when the voices had dwindled, "is to find out who this 'he' is, as well as who or what the Triuna Crudus is. Sybill," Dumbledore addressed the Divination teacher, who had been summoned from the North Tower. "I need to speak to you alone later."

"Of course," she cooed in her sleepy voice. "But if this is true, if the Triuna…"

"We will speak later, Sybill," Dumbledore interrupted and she sank back into the shadows.

Dumbledore dismissed the rest of the staff to their quarters a few moments later, with instructions for Professors Snape, McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick to check on their houses before turning in themselves. Most of the staff shot curious looks at Sybill Trelawney, but left silently.

"Harry, Hermione, I wonder if you'd stay a moment," Dumbledore said almost casually as they moved to leave the room. Sybill left with the rest, telling Dumbledore she'd be consulting the Orb.

Once they were alone, Dumbledore sat heavily at his desk. "Harry, you know my thoughts on the so-called prophecy. And based on what happened this evening, I am more certain than ever that the scroll is a hoax. But I need to know, how many of your classmates are you in touch with?"

"Several, Professor. Ron Weasley, Lavendar and Seamus Finnegan. Neville Longbottom…most of the Gryffindors, actually. Also Hannah and Ernie MacMillan, they send an owl every once in a while."

"You didn't mention Draco Malfoy," Dumbledore pointed out. "I seem to remember you two patching up a few differences at the end of your seventh year."

"I haven't spoken to him since then, Professor. The last time I spoke to him was at Hermione's funeral." Harry touched Hermione's shoulder and squeezed. "I thought he was somewhere in the Caribbean. That he left England right after Lucius died."

"That's the last I heard, as well. But the woman mentioned that whoever this man is, he's come back to his country."

"Do you think he's involved in this, Professor?" Hermione asked, shuddering at the mere mention of his name. Her return to Hogwarts this fall had brought back many memories, some she relished, some she didn't. And memories of Draco Malfoy were firmly in the "didn't" category.

"I was just wondering if you, or anyone you know, could tell us exactly where he is," Dumbledore stated in his brusque manner, clearly accepting no further discussion about why he wanted to know.

"We'll check around, but we weren't exactly friends with the same people."

"How about Professor Snape?" Hermione asked, remembering how close the two had been during their school days.

"I've already asked Severus, but he has no idea where Mr. Malfoy is, or what he's been up to for the past few years. He's looking into it as well. Now I am going to ask both of you to put this business out of your heads. I have a clearer idea of what is going on now, I believe. While I'm not of the opinion that evil is on the doorstep, there is something going on that bears investigating. For the time being, however, it serves no purpose dreading what might or might not happen."

"Easy words to say," Harry grumbled as they crossed the threshold of their apartment after the silent journey from the staff room.

"And easy to follow, when given by Professor Dumbledore. Besides, you don't believe the whole prophecy thing is true either, right?" Hermione paused and shot Harry a pointed look. "Or was that a lie?"

His silence was his answer, and Hermione merely sighed. The only time he ever lied was when he thought it was in someone's best interest. In this case, hers. She let it pass without comment, determined to rid him of the worry once and for all. "You once told me that you trusted Dumbledore above all others, Harry. Why can't you trust him on this?"

"Because I have a pit in my stomach the size of London. And the last time I felt like this was the day I lost you."

"Ever think it has more to do with becoming a father than the coming of a new evil?" Hermione laughed.

"You find this all a joke, do you?" Harry accused, the swarm of fear in his head rising to an almost deafening level.

"I'm not laughing at you, Harry." Hermione crossed over to him and took his hands in hers. "I'm just trying to see the best in all of this. You're taking normal first time parent worries and turning them into the four horsemen of the apocalypse."

They silently dressed for bed and settled in for the night. In the dark of the room, Harry felt Hermione beside him, but it was a cold comfort. How could she not see the danger in relaxing their guard? He'd lived the majority of his life with the shadow of Voldemort looming over him. Hermione had shared much of that shadow with him. Was her reaction because she truly didn't believe that there was cause for worry, or that she didn't _want_ to believe it?

Harry still harbored a few lingering doubts over a prophecy of evil coming to light in such a manner, but he refused to back away from the possibility. He just wished Hermione shared his concerns.

"It's no more than I was expecting," Harry said quietly, knowing she didn't want to hear it but helpless to stop his own voice. "Ever since Voldemort's death, I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Well, of course, you were, Harry," Hermione spat in exasperation. "Can't be happy, can we? Always looking for the next dreadful event to threaten us, aren't you? Well, you go on then. Be the Hogwarts doomcrier for all I care. But I am not carrying a Daemonica, Harry. I am carrying our child. And I am going to enjoy every moment of this pregnancy, with or without your participation."

And for the first time since their wedding, Hermione fell asleep not curled in his arms, but with her back to him. One of those bumps in the road Seamus had told him about had just turned into a very large pothole.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry was pacing the empty corridor like a man awaiting trial. He could hear screaming on the other side of the door. It was Hermione. His heart clenched and his body shook as he opened the door separating them. She was on their bed with her feet propped up. Poppy was close by, encouraging her to push.

Hermione reached out a hand to him and he took it, using a nearby cloth to wipe her forehead. Her face twisted in agony again, and he did his best to support her as she labored. With a final small whimper, Hermione fell back to the bed and sighed deeply. Harry looked to Poppy for confirmation that the baby had just been born, but the woman's face had gone white.

Scooting back from Hermione, she clutched the newborn. Holding it at arm's length, as far from her body as possible, her wide eyes met his. Harry felt cold terror creep up his spine. His pulse trebled. His stomach tightened. The child was reddish black, dark and silent. Its face was more reptilian than human. It looked exactly like Voldemort had before Wormtail dropped him into the cauldron.

The child's mouth opened, but no cry came…only a hissing. A hissing Harry could understand. _I am born…I am back. Harry…_

"NO!" Harry screamed, waking both himself and Hermione. His body was wracked with tremors and covered in a sheen of cold sweat. He fumbled for his glasses and put them on, not because he needed to see anything in the dark room, but because their slight weight on his nose was a comfort. Something familiar.

He felt more than saw Hermione shift on the bed, grab her wand and illuminate the small set of fragrant candles at their bedside _._ The dim light created comfortable shadows in the room and provided a warmth he desperately needed. Harry blinked rapidly and felt tears fall down his cheeks.

The argument they'd had earlier temporarily forgotten, Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around her husband, pulling him back until he was leaning against her. "It's all over, love. It was just a dream."

"Mione," he whispered, then tried to clear the lump from his throat. "It…he…the baby…it was Voldemort."

"I know, Harry. I saw."

"What do you mean, you saw?" Harry's brow furrowed and he shifted slightly to see her face.

"I mean, that I can still see your dreams occasionally. Not all the time, but when you have a dream that is especially intense, I can see it too. Some remnant of that connection we formed while I was in America remained."

In spite of the horror he'd seen, Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks. "Er…did you happen to see the one about the prefect's bathroom?"

Hermione laughed for what felt like the first time in ages. "Yes. Interesting idea, by the way."

Harry laughed too, amazed at the way this woman could, just by being next to him, banish the demons that haunted him. Her presence grounded him, brought him back from the brink of a hideous nightmare to a place where he felt safe enough to laugh.

He supposed that was why he loved her, why he needed her…why he'd fallen apart so completely when he thought he'd lost her.

"Is that what you're really afraid of, Harry? That this Daemonica rubbish is Voldemort trying to reincarnate himself?"

"No." Harry exhaled. "Well, maybe. I've had nightmares like that on and off for years. It's always the same horrid image of a baby. Seeing _you_ give birth to him is just a new variation," his mouth twisted sardonically. "All this talk about a Daemonica has me afraid that someone is trying to bring him back, I guess."

"Can he be brought back?" Hermione asked, unconsciously gripping him tighter.

"No," Harry said flatly, but refused to elaborate. He changed the subject as he always did when Voldemort's name was mentioned. Their argument had prevented Harry from asking her about the strange woman's words, and the odd reactions to it. "Did you get the impression that Dumbledore and Trelawney seemed to recognize the words Triuna Crudus?"

"Yeah," Hermione replied, thinking of the light in Trelawney's eyes as she'd spoken. "Her eyes were almost twinkling."

They discussed theories back and forth for almost an hour. And with every argument Hermione made, Harry became more and more skeptical of the scroll he'd been sent…more and more sure that it was a diversionary tactic. He found his fear over Hermione's pregnancy being rapidly replaced by anger over the apparent manipulation.

"One thing is clear, whoever is behind this knows me well enough to know which buttons to push. He or she knew what would prey on my fears. That must be why the scroll was sent to me, not directly to the ministry."

"Draco Malfoy," Hermione finished. "Dumbledore's right, we need to find out where he is," she said simply, and Harry could almost see the wheels in her mind turning faster as she formulated a plan. She'd probably have the owlery cleared out by breakfast, sending notes to every student she knew, as well as those she didn't.

Harry yawned slightly. Talking quietly with her had soothed his earlier fear. Her soft voice had distanced him from the nightmare. "I also want to tell Ron what's going on. He hears more in Hogsmeade about what's going on in the wizarding world than we do and may be more attuned if he knows what to listen for."

"I'll do it," Hermione said quickly, "you've got a full schedule tomorrow, and I only have that bloody counter to work on." They both grinned. What they had started out calling the Imperfect Charm was rapidly turning into That Bloody Counter.

Harry said nothing as he removed his glasses and Hermione extinguished the candles. They repositioned themselves on the mattress to try and salvage whatever they could of the remaining night's sleep. Hermione spooned next to him, her back to his front, and they fell asleep as they always did. Together. "Love you , Mione," he mumbled as he drifted off. And this time, the only thing he dreamed of was a girl with bushy brown hair, riding behind him on a hippogriff.

^*^*^*^*^

Hermione sat at the head table trying to each lunch and massage her throbbing hand at the same time. She must have written twenty letters that morning -- long ones so as not to draw any more attention to her question about Malfoy's whereabouts than necessary. At first, she'd used a Quick Quill, but too many of her thoughts had transferred to the parchment so she had switched to her regular quill instead. After the first ten letters, Hermione had realized that she'd better pace herself. Today's batch of twenty marked the last of the lot. The end of a week's worth of correspondence.

It was also the day Ron had agreed to meet her at the lakeside. He was still being cagey and secretive, but she had more important things to ask him about today than his odd behavior. Along with informing him of the events at the castle, she wanted answers about a few loose ends that had been worrying her for some time. Harry had the nightmare again just last night. And until she had all her answers, she couldn't begin to help him through them.

He was already sitting there when she arrived, hurling small bits of rock at the giant squid, a faraway look on his face.

"Ron?" Hermione said softly as she came up behind him.

"Hermione," Ron jumped to his feet, causing her to take a few steps backward. "Sorry I couldn't meet you sooner. I've had….well, never mind. Is something wrong?"

"In a way. Actually, I'm surprised you haven't heard about it yet." Hermione filled him in on the scroll, the prophecy and the mysterious woman. Ron's reaction wasn't quite what she expected. He let forth a barrage of questions, all of them tumbling out one after the other.

Hermione tried to answer every question he threw at her, but all she could come up with were one-word answers to most of them. "Dumbledore's doing all he can to figure this out, I'm sure. But now that you know what happened, you can listen around Hogsmeade for anything that might be out of the ordinary."

"I have a feeling there's a 'but' in there somewhere," Ron stated, knowing that Hermione wasn't biting her lip because it itched.

"There's something I need to know." Hermione paused to take in a deep breath. "Did Harry ever tell you what happened in that graveyard after the third task?"

"Yeah," Ron said quickly, "he told both of us, remember?"

"I mean Voldemort's rebirth, not the duel. Did he ever tell you about that part?"

Ron looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Parts of it, one night while I was walking him home from the Three Broomsticks." Ron told her what he remembered of Harry's drunken ramblings. Hermione didn't tell Ron about the nightmares Harry had been having, but at least now she had a clearer idea of where the nightmares were coming from.

"There's something else," Hermione said quietly.

"There always is," Ron smiled back.

Hermione shot him an amused look, then sobered. "I need to know what happened after I disappeared. Exactly what happened."

"That's something you need to ask Harry, Hermione."

"I've tried asking him, Ron. I've tried until I'm hoarse. He won't tell me. All this talk about a Daemonica has him reliving Voldemort's death as well as his rebirth. And I can't help him get past it without the details."

They'd been making their way slowly around the lake, but at her question Ron stopped walking. He looked out over the surface of the water, his mind filled with images of Harry's frenzy that night.

"Hermione…" Ron started, in a last ditch attempt to spare her this.

"I need to know, Ron." She took his hand and squeezed, forcing him to look at her.

"Nothing happened for the longest time. He just sat on that cave floor, staring at You Know Who's body. He wouldn't move; he wouldn't speak. It was like he'd turned to stone. I stayed with him, fighting down my own grief, not knowing what else to do. Then he stood up, magicked the body into the air and started walking out of the cave. When we reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he lowered the body to the ground. He told me to go back to the castle and tell Professor Dumbledore what had happened."

Ron paused, trying to find the strength within him to tell her the rest. "I didn't go. I followed Harry into the Forest, into a clearing. And he…he…he went a little mad, I think. He started blasting trees into splinters, creating craters in the ground several feet across. By the time I reached him, he had just summoned You Know Who's body to him. I caught his arm before he could do anything, but Hermione…the look in his eyes. I hope to never see that kind of wild rage again as long as I live."

Hermione was silent. She couldn't think of anything to say. To any of it. All she'd been told prior to this was that Harry had spent years trying to come to grips with his grief. This was the first time she'd heard of his behavior immediately following her disappearance. She imagined herself in Harry's position. Watching him disappear, thinking he'd died.

And she understood completely.

They started walking again. Hermione didn't even try to stop the tears that were flowing freely down her cheeks. She thought she'd cried all her tears over the past. She was wrong.

"How are you feeling?" Ron asked quietly as they started their second loop, desperate to get her mind off that hideous night five years ago.

"A little stunned by all I've heard," Hermione wiped at her cheeks.

"I guess I should have said, how are you feeling, mum?"

She smiled slightly and brought her hand automatically to her abdomen. "Fine. Better than the horrid things I've heard expectant mothers go on about. When I was working at the library, I came into contact with loads of pregnant women. Their talk of throwing up every morning is enough to put anyone off having children. Maybe witches aren't susceptible to that."

"No, they are," Ron grinned. He'd heard his sisters-in-law go on about it until he felt like throwing up himself. "But if you're smart, you'll keep that to yourself. Envy over easy pregnancies is a terrible thing. I still can't believe the two of you are pregnant," Ron shook his head.

"Two?" Hermione asked curiously.

"You and Harry," Ron covered quickly. "I still can't believe you and Harry are pregnant." Ron glanced in the direction of Hogsmeade and then turned back to Hermione. "Look, Hermione. I've got to get back to Weasleys. Let me know if anything else comes up, okay? And I'll keep my ears open for anything out of the ordinary in town. About the other, though. It's up to you, but you may not want to tell Harry I told you about it."

Ron pressed a brief kiss to Hermione's cheek before sprinting off towards the Hogwarts gates. Hermione stared after him, wondering why his ears had gone bright, beet red.

^*^*^*^*

He stood at the balcony, and stared out over the grounds, fidgeting. He didn't like it, but he fidgeted anyway. This was going to be the hardest conversation he'd ever had with her. Because this time, he was going to stick to his guns. This time, he was going to make her see reason.

"Sweetheart?" Ginny asked as she walked up behind him. "What's wrong?"

"I have to leave, Gin," he said softly. "Your mother's not going to be happy with your brief visits with your brother and notes from you for much longer. She's not a stupid woman."

"I see," Ginny settled into a chair and crossed her arms. They'd had this conversation in one form or another several times since she'd met with Ron two weeks ago. Eventually, she'd convince him it was futile. "And your leaving me will ensure my mother's happiness?"

"Ginny. If I'm out of the picture, you can go back home. I mean it'll take her some time to get used to the situation, but she'll have you home at least."

"I'd rather you come home with me."

"Yeah," he laughed bitterly. "I have this little movie of that scene that plays in my head all the time. We show up at the Burrow, together, you sporting four months of pregnant stomach. The next thing I see is the lid of my casket being closed."

"It wouldn't be like that. I know my family, sweetheart. They're protective, but not murderous."

"They would be about me."

She left her chair and crossed the room towards him, placing her arms firmly around his middle once she was near enough. "But they'd be reacting to who you were, Draco. Not who you are now."

"Like that makes much difference," Draco snorted, wishing for the hundredth time that he could alter the past, alter his upbringing. Alter his whole bloody life.

"It does to me," Ginny smiled and pulled his head down until their lips met in a brief kiss. "And we _are_ going to tell them, Draco. You're right, I can't hide from them forever. They might be a little…ER…resistant at first, but they'll come around."

"That'll be when, Red, sometime after we become grandparents?" Draco sighed deeply, using the nickname he'd bestowed upon her early in their courtship.

"Look," she pulled out of his arms and placed her hands on his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. "When I saw you at the reception, lurking in the shadows, I was positive you were there to cause havoc. Curse the food, bring the roof down on our heads. But I believed you when you said you were just there to wish Harry and Hermione well."

"And I was. After all the heartbreak those two endured, no one deserves a life of happiness more than they do. When I read the notice about the reception, I knew I had to go. Harry and I put the past behind us for the most part at Hermione's memorial service, but I didn't think anyone else would care to see me there. I was hoping to get him alone, offer my congratulations and leave. Listening to Ron's toast, though, I lost my nerve. I was just about to leave when you stopped me." A smile lit his pale face. "You looked like Hell personified pointing your wand in my face, telling me to get out."

Ginny laughed with him. "I was shaking the whole time. You always scared me a bit at school, you and those goons who shadowed you. But I'd seen hate and jealousy mar your face enough to recognize the opposites I saw in your eyes that night."

"And," he leaned down to kiss her forehead softly, "you agreed to meet me for dinner the next day."

"And marry you the next month," Ginny grinned even wider. "Well, if we're finished with today's round of 'Ginny, I'm leaving for your own good,' I'm going upstairs to run myself a nice hot bubble bath and wash away this whole conversation. You can either join me or leave me. The choice is yours." She took a few steps toward the staircase and turned. The look on his face told her that she'd won the argument again.

"I'm right behind you," he smiled back.

As he heard the water begin to run upstairs, he padded back to the window, watching dusk fall and stars coming alight in the sky. Glancing towards them, he thanked whatever force had brought Ginny into his life. He couldn't have planned it better.

Ginny slid into the tub and sighed, scented bubbles covering her nearly to the ears. To an observer, she looked serene, almost like she was sleeping. But inside, her emotions were in turmoil. She couldn't tell Draco, but she _was_ worried about her parents' eventual reaction to their secret marriage and her subsequent pregnancy. Mum would rant that she'd gone too fast, then she'd rant that she was denied the pleasure of witnessing her only daughter's wedding.

Her father would rage over her choice of groom. And then he'd probably disown her.

Those were the simple reactions. Each of her brothers would take their own turns lambasting her, Ron more than the others as he hated Draco the most. But she was determined to win them over, to show them the Draco she knew…and loved with all that she was.

In the month they'd spent together before the elopement, she had seen many different sides to Draco Malfoy. The little boy, following in his father's shadow for a bit of attention. The nasty, wisecracking student, desperate to earn a father's regard. And the man, lost without the father that had played such an important role in his life, and desperate to make amends for the past.

And her family would have to either accept him or live without her.

"Is this a private party?" Draco asked, pushing open the bathroom door, a wicked gleam in his gray eyes.

"No. I need my back washed," Ginny replied primly and sat forward.

Stripping his shirt off over his head, Draco sauntered to the side of the claw foot tub and reached for a cloth. After a few minutes, and quite a bit of sighing, Ginny found her voice.

"I said my _back_ needed washing."

"My mistake," he grinned and joined her in the tub, pants and all.

^*^*^*^*^

Hermione was lying amid a pile of parchment when Harry opened the door to their apartment that night. Engrossed in what she was reading, she didn't even notice him. He closed the door silently and surveyed the small room. It wasn't much, but they hadn't needed much. Not overly large or terribly small, it was only one room with an adjoining bath and closet area. There was a writing table in one corner, a bed in the other and two dressers on the wall near the door. So far, it had been fine for them.

But, Harry thought, how would a baby fit into their cozy room? Would they simply add a cradle, or move out to a larger house in Hogsmeade? As far as Harry knew, there had never been a married couple teaching at Hogwarts, much less a couple raising a child. Harry shelved those concerns for the moment. As Hermione said, they had months before the baby came and the logistics became a concern…for now, they were reveling in the excitement of the upcoming event.

Looking back on his initial reaction, Harry still felt the vestiges of shame. The most wonderful news a couple could share and he'd stormed out. Part of him was still amazed that she had forgiven him that outburst…and thanked God every day that she had.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice snapped him from his wayward thoughts. "Come and listen to this." She waited until he joined her, perching a hip on the bed. "According to several of the letters I sent, Malfoy was at our reception."

"What?"

"Hannah and Ernie MacMillan saw him. At first I decided they were seeing things and ignored it. But Katie, Angelina and Alicia saw him, too. Skulking around the back of the hall, they said. And then, to cap it off, Percy wrote and said he could have sworn he saw Malfoy at the ministry."

"You're joking," Harry said, stunned.

"Read it yourself." Hermione pressed the letter into his hand and Harry scanned it. _…pretty sure I saw Malfoy at the ministry last month, Hermione. Don't know where he was going, but I'm positive it was him…_ Harry had trouble forming words. Draco Malfoy was at their reception and had been sighted at the ministry. He didn't know what either meant, but was fairly certain it wasn't good.

"Who else do we know who works there?"

"Seamus and Dean both do, but neither of their letters mention him at all. Should we ask them to check it out?"

"Not yet," Harry said, his mind turning over possibilities. "Let's see what happens. Has everyone you've written to responded, then?"

Harry's brow creased at the sudden downturn of her eyes.

"Mostly," she said quietly then picked up a still sealed envelope. Harry could see Mariah's name written across it. "Hedwig brought this back about an hour ago. Harry, I'm starting to get really worried about Mariah. Hedwig's never failed to deliver a letter before. If she couldn't find Mariah…" Hermione trailed off, thinking of how sad Hedwig had appeared. She was almost as upset as Hermione with her first failure at mail delivery.

"That probably means she's not in the UK, Mione," Harry tried to placate her, but Hermione wasn't having any of it.

"Don't give me that, Harry. Hedwig delivered letters to Sirius when he was in the tropics. Distance doesn't waylay her."

Harry knew she was right, and he felt helpless to reassure her.

"Any luck with Dumbledore?" Hermione asked trying to get her mind off Mariah.

"Not a whit. He's still not talking about what the Triuna Crudus is, if he even knows. I'm starting to consider a trip up to the North Tower."

"Better you than me," Hermione grinned. "Would you trust what Trelawney told you?"

"Based on her prediction rating, three correct out of several thousand? Probably not. The fact that I'm still alive seems to trouble her no end. You know, I actually caught her trying to glance into my teacup in the staff room a few weeks ago."

"Lucky thing you switched to tea bags, eh?"

Their eyes met. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. What was it about her? Which physical characteristic of hers caused his heart to lurch whenever their gazes connected? He'd tried to narrow it down to one but had failed. He guessed it was just…Hermione. All the little things wrapped into the small, albeit widening, package that was his wife. His love.

"I love you," he said simply.

Hermione silently swept all the parchment surrounding her onto the floor. A wicked gleam twinkled in her eyes as she reached up and removed his glasses. Close as he was to her, he had no trouble making out the slight upturn to her mouth as she reached up and kissed his lips primly. It was a chaste, closed mouth kiss that she followed with smaller ones along his jawline, not stopping until she reached the hollow below his ear. Her soft voice whispered sinful, wonderful suggestions of how they could spend the rest of the evening.

Harry kept silent and let her continue to persuade him. After all, he had nowhere in particular to be.

"Me first," he growled into her ear at a particularly lovely proposal.

^*^*^*^*^*^

Ron stopped at the door. He could hear Mariah walking around inside the apartment, and had to steady himself before he walked in. He thought he'd been shocked when Mariah had Apparated in front of him. He thought he'd been shocked to find out they were Bonded. But he now knew better. He hadn't known true shock until he'd seen her standing at the dresser…pregnant.

All pleasant thoughts of her had fled in that instant. A sense of betrayal had run swiftly through him and he'd shut himself off from her. For nearly a month she'd lain in his bed, never once mentioning what she'd kept hidden under the blankets. Not so much as a hint that she sheltered a child beneath her heart. His child, unless he'd been wildly mistaken about her character.

At times he found that thought thrilling his heart and turning the corners of his mouth into a wide grin. Then he remembered that Mariah had kept it from him; that he'd found out by accident. And the grin turned to a frown. Every time.

The hardest part of all was fighting the urge to stay near her. When his mind was unoccupied, he was filled with thoughts of her. Her face, her smile, everything that was innately Mariah swam through his mind like a siren's song. Several times each day he fought the desire to run up the back stairs or Apparate into the living room if Lissanne was hovering. It was almost like the Imperius curse, a rush of near giddiness, a pull towards her, and a desire to do nothing else but stay by her side until time ended. He knew it was because of their being Bonded, and he hated the control it had over him.

But they had to talk. Mariah's abduction had been frightening enough. However, when he coupled it with what Hermione had told him the week before he became downright terrified…for Mariah and for their child. If Harry was right, and there was some unknown person pulling strings and casting fear over an upcoming birth…Mariah was in far more danger than he'd realized.

Ron took a deep breath and closed his hand on the door leading from the staircase into the apartment. It didn't budge.

"Mariah?" he said through the door.

Inside, Mariah froze. _So,_ she thought to herself, careful not to project her thoughts to him, _he's deigned to speak to me again._

Joy and bitterness warred within her. Bitterness won hands down. In all the years she'd harbored a hero worship of him, she'd never guessed that he could be such an immature jerk. He'd looked so horrified, so appalled at the sight of her pregnancy. And then he'd simply stopped speaking to her. Not one comment had escaped his lips. He'd just stared, then he'd turned away from her.

The desire to examine his thoughts had been overpowering that afternoon. And it still was. The connection was there, but she wouldn't intrude that way. There was a fine line between listening to what he broadcast and searching for what he wanted hidden. She knew several Diviners, her mother included, with no qualms about glancing unbidden into the minds of their Bonds. But that was a line Mariah refused to cross.

Deep in her heart, she wished that his childish reaction would banish the feelings she still had for him. But it didn't. And it wasn't the damn Bond, much as she wished she could lay the blame there. Bonding had no influence over emotional states. Damn her masochistic heart, which was even now increasing its beat because he was near.

She took several deep breaths, calming her heart and blanking her face. Walking slowly, she unlocked the door and let Ron in.

"What'd you lock the door for?"

 __

 _Why didn't you use your wand to open it?_

"I didn't want to disturb you," Ron said softly, his eyes riveted to her stomach.

 _How noble_ , she added as much sarcasm to the thought as she could. _What do you want?_

Ron looked sheepish. "I was just wondering how you're feeling. I haven't seen much of you in the past few days."

 __

 _Try two weeks, Ron. Tell me, has it always been your practice to run away when things get difficult? To turn away from friends when they disappoint you?_

Mariah would have laughed at the stunned expression on his face if she weren't so angry. He looked like he'd just taken a Bludger to the stomach.

Ron hoped his face showed no sign of the thoughts rampaging through him, but was pretty sure it did. Hermione'd told him a thousand times that his face gave away every thought he had. A retort was on his lips, but he bit it back. Memories of Scabbers' supposed death and Harry's becoming Hogwarts champion ran through his mind. Both times he had turned from Hermione and Harry, refusing to speak to them over an imagined slight. He realized he had no retort to make. She was absolutely right.

"I guess I do," Ron said softly. "I'm sorry, Mariah."

Ron's apology took all her anger and whisked it away like smoke. She'd heard the internal dialogue he'd had with himself as he came to realize his own shortcomings. Mariah began to wonder if she shouldn't teach him a blocking spell to further shield his thoughts from her. Sometimes, he thought louder than a stereo cranked to its highest volume.

 _It's okay, Ron. After all, it's not like you haven't had a lot to deal with over the past month. And I'm sorry for the stress I've caused you._ Mariah moved over to sit on the couch and Ron followed, taking the chair opposite her.

"I thought we agreed on no more apologizing," Ron said with a small smile.

 _You started it_ , she smiled back. _I know that this past month hasn't exactly been a walk in the park for you. My showing up, then finding out that you're about to become a father._ Mariah placed a hand over her stomach and looked up at him quizzically. His eyes had grown as large as dinner plates. _I'm fairly sure you didn't miss the fact that I'm pregnant, Ron._

"I'm not that dense, Mariah," Ron chanced a half smile. "But that's the first time I've heard you say it." Acting on impulse alone, he rose from his chair and walked over to sit beside her on the couch. Their eyes remained fixed and unwavering as Ron's hand raised and reached towards hers. Their fingers entwined. Mariah raised their joined hands and placed them on the swell of their child. His hand rested on the surprisingly firm mound, her hand on top of his. As if recognizing him, the baby gave a little kick against his palm. Every other thought fled from his mind at that tiny impact.

 _Did you feel that?_ Mariah asked, tears swimming in her bright blue eyes.

"Yeah," Ron said softly.

They lapsed into silence. Ron kept his hand on her stomach, his heart leaping every time the baby shifted. It wasn't even born yet, and Ron already knew he'd give his life to protect it. He could think of no other moment that could compare to the harmony he felt right now, sitting there, feeling the subtle movements of the baby beneath her skin. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to sit on this couch with Mariah forever. And he didn't even care if it _was_ the Bond talking.

Mariah suddenly stiffened and fire shone from her blue eyes. She stood and stalked a few steps away from him. Confused, Ron stood as well.

 _Stay away from me_.

Not sure what was going on, Ron took a few hesitant steps toward her.

 __

 _I mean it, Ron. Stay away from me. You bastard._


	5. Chapter 5

Ginny Weasley strolled out of the store, readjusting the purchases she'd made that day in her hand. The small town near Malfoy Manor didn't offer much in the way of maternity wear, but she was getting desperate. Clothes that were a tad uncomfortable two weeks ago were now unbearably tight. Just the thought made her smile.

If anyone had told her, even a year ago, that she'd not only be married to Draco Malfoy, but expecting his child…well, it would have taken them months to remove the hex marks. But she'd discovered, to her surprise and delight, that there was so much more to him than the sinister Slytherin student they'd all loathed at school.

The biggest shock of all for her, she mused as she walked down the rutted lane towards the Manor, was Draco's low self-esteem. A man unsure of his place in the world had replaced the haughty snob. But she was working on that. Slowly chipping away at his idea that no one on the light side would welcome Lucius Malfoy's son into the fold. Ginny knew time was the only thing that would change his mind. Time and slowly reentering the wizarding world he'd shunned for so long. His work at the ministry was helping…her family would be the next step.

"Draco," she'd told him just that morning. "I'm giving you three more weeks to voluntarily accompany me to the Burrow."

"And after that?" he'd replied a little smugly, but she could see the dread in his eyes.

"After that, I get nasty."

Ginny grinned at the thought of the lascivious leer in his eyes after she'd said that. And what they'd done…

The grin faded abruptly as Ginny noticed a blonde woman on the road ahead of her. Automatically, her senses went on alert. This road was never used by anyone, save herself and Draco. Muggles didn't know it existed, and the whole wizarding population knew it led to Malfoy Manor. A manor which looked deserted and decaying to their eyes.

Squaring her shoulders, Ginny casually transferred her shopping bag to her left hand. She shook her right arm slightly until she felt her wand slide down into her waiting hand. They were just a few feet apart when the woman whipped a wand out and said " _Expelliarmus"._ Ginny's wand flew to the woman and landed in her outstretched hand.

"Don't make a fuss, and it will be fine," the woman said easily, as if they were acquaintances who'd just met by chance. "He just wants to talk to you."

Ginny didn't know who "he" was, but was fairly sure that anyone who needed force to initiate a conversation wasn't someone she was interested in meeting.

"Thanks, but I'll pass," Ginny said casually. "I've got a full schedule today. Send me an owl and we'll set up a better time."

The woman smiled slightly as she walked towards Ginny. She didn't speak until she was directly in front of her, placing her hand on Ginny's arm. "Sorry, but this meeting can't wait."

 _She doesn't know who she's playing with,_ Ginny thought. Calling up every instance of squaring off against six older brothers, Ginny ducked her head and maneuvered out of the woman's grasp.

The woman was almost expecting it, because she was right back next to her a second later, hand more forceful on her arm this time. _Okay,_ Ginny thought, _time to get rough._ Balling up her fist, Ginny landed a right hook directly to the woman's jaw. Stunned disbelief crossed the woman's face, and she let go of Ginny's arm. Ginny thought of Ron teaching her that punch, then immediately Disapparated -- fairly sure that any danger of Apparating while pregnant paled in comparison to being abducted.

^*^*^*^*^*

"What did you say?" Ron asked, bewildered. He'd been sitting there moments before, lost in thought over the idea of his child growing within Mariah when she'd sprang to her feet and started calling him names.

 __

 _I told you to stay away from me, you damned bastard._

Ron's face was covered with a what-did-I-do expression he hadn't worn since Hogwarts. And now, just as then, he hadn't a clue what he'd done. His middle name may be Charles, but Harry had always said the C stood for Clueless.

 _Did you just_ forget _that I could hear your thoughts, Ron? Or did you want me to hear that particular slap in the face?_

In fact, he had forgotten. He struggled to remember what he'd been thinking just before her outburst. Something about his wanting her to stay with him forever. Funny, that was the kind of thing his sister told him women wanted to hear.

 __

 _Not that, Ron. Right after that._

There was something strange in that thought, and Ron looked up at her suddenly. Blue eyes clashed together, but Mariah's were glistening. She was almost crying.

"Mariah, what did I say?"

 __

 _You said that you didn't care if it was the Bond talking when you thought about wanting me to stay with you._

"And that's bad because?"

Mariah stared at him, willing her eyes to dry. Something about his face, the sheer puzzlement there, cooled her anger a few degrees. Thinking back, she replayed their conversation in his bedroom so many months ago. He had acted as though he'd known about Diviners. Maybe he didn't know as much as she had assumed.

But Ginny's sudden appearance between them delayed further conversation.

"Ron," she said in a hoarse whisper before dropping to the floor.

He ran to Ginny, kneeling in front of her. She was still breathing, but her eyes were shut firmly. "Second one to Apparate in and faint at my feet," he muttered. "Maybe I'd better rethink the aftershave."

 __

 _Ron? Is she okay?_

"I think so." If you can call your sister fainting okay, he thought.

 __

 _Get her to the couch._

"I'm doing that, Mariah," Ron glared up at her, levitating his sister to the couch. "I'm not completely dense, you know. But you'd better get out of sight if you want your presence to remain hidden. I guess we'll have to continue our little talk later."

 __

 _Ron, I…_

"Go, Mariah. She's starting to wake up." Ron saw Mariah walk quickly towards the bedroom, then he turned his attention to his sister.

Ginny's eyes fluttered open. "Ron?" she asked softly. "What happened?"

"I think that should be my line," Ron quipped, trying to cover his concern with humor. "You Apparated here, then you fainted."

"I was attacked," she said in a tremulous voice. Ron noticed her hands shaking when she ran them through her hair. And there was something else different about her, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

 _Attacked?_ Mariah said to Ron, her concern evident. _By whom?_

Ron nearly groaned out loud. What was he? Some wet behind the ears first year? _You know, Mariah, if you want to come out and ask her yourself…_

The ensuing silence answered for her.

"Who attacked you, Ginny?" Ron walked over to the sink and poured her a large glass of water.

"I don't know. It was a woman. She pointed a wand at me and said that 'he' only wanted to talk to me."

 __

 _Who?_

"Who?" Ron and Mariah asked at the same time. This mental talking thing was beginning to sound more like an echo, he thought humorlessly.

"She didn't say, and I didn't wait around to find out. Being cursed with six older brothers came in handy for getting away, though. So my belated thanks for every time you got me in a headlock or chased me around the Burrow." Ginny offered a weak smile, took a sip of the water Ron handed her, then finally looked around. "Did I see someone else here before I went down?"

 _Good question. You take this one._ Ron could almost hear Mariah laugh.

 _"_ Lissanne," Ron improvised. "My assistant." Just then, Ron's brain caught up with his eyes. "You're pregnant!"

"Well spotted," Ginny couldn't help the grin.

 _I think Harry might be onto something with that clueless thing, Ron_. _I noticed the moment she Apparated,_ Mariah chimed in.

"Funny," he said, and thought it too, just to let Mariah know she was included. "Well, there's one mystery solved. Now I know why you were avoiding Mum. But what the bloody hell are you doing Apparating while pregnant? You know how dangerous that can be."

"I rather thought that was the lesser of two evils, Ron." Ginny's spine straightened.

 _Ron, I did the same thing. Once or twice isn't that dangerous. Especially since we both know where she was probably headed if she didn't get away._ Ron shuddered at the thought.

"Tell me more about the attack," Ron asked to change the subject. He knew Hermione and Harry were both still anxious to hear about anything out of the ordinary, but that had shifted into low priority after a week of Moody's Constant Vigilance had turned up nothing.

Ginny being attacked shed a whole new light on that, though. What her attacker had said paralleled what the Hogwarts visitor had said. Some unnamed "he" was behind both instances, and Ron had the sick feeling that Mariah's blonde abductor was the He in question.

 _What visitor at Hogwarts?_ Mariah asked.

 _I'll tell you later,_ Ron thought back at her. And then it hit him. The horrible feeling that he knew exactly who was behind all of this. _Mariah, I know of only one blonde man nefarious enough to go around attacking pregnant women._

 __

 _Who?_

"Draco Malfoy," Ron said out loud.

"What about him?" Ginny suddenly sat up straighter.

"He's got to be behind this," Ron growled and began to pace the apartment.

Ginny bit her lip. This wasn't the time to disclose their marriage, but her heart demanded that she defend him. "It's not Draco," she said with as much vehemence as she dared.

"What makes you so sure?"

"It's just not his style," she said lamely.

Ron whirled around and faced his sister. "Are you mad? It's exactly his style. Look, I don't have time to debate this now. I've got to go to Hogwarts and tell Harry and Hermione what happened."

Before Ginny could get a rebuttal in, Ron stalked into the bedroom. He paused briefly in front of Mariah and took her hand in his. Impulsively, he pulled it to his mouth and pressed a brief kiss to her palm. Before she could comment, Ron grabbed his cloak and went back out to Ginny.

"There's no time to fill you in, Ginny. I'll let Harry and Hermione do that. Just promise me you'll stay here until I get back. It's important."

Ginny promised, and he only half believed her. But he had no choice.

 _Mariah…_ he thought as he nearly ran down the stairs, shouting to Lissanne that he'd be back soon.

 _I'll keep her here, Ron. I promise._ Mariah was glad in that moment that Ron couldn't hear her thoughts as well. For the first time since the wedding reception, he'd touched her intentionally. It wasn't a touch meant to help her recover. It was a touch to convey …something else. She willed her heart to stop hammering in her chest and settled on the bed to await his return -- hope springing within her for the first time in ages.

^*^*^*^*^

Draco stood in the entrance hall and knew immediately that the house was empty. His wife was imbued with an effervescent life force, one that seeped into the very walls, making the whole house come alive. A thread of panic shimmered up his spine, but he diverted it. She was probably still shopping. Checking his watch, though, he realized that most of the village shops had closed nearly an hour ago and the walk from town didn't take that long.

 _Guess she finally came to her senses, eh, Malfoy?_ Draco hated that his conscience's voice sounded like Harry Potter's.

 _That's not true,_ he told the voice vehemently, _Ginny loves me. That's the one thing I am sure of._

 _Whatever you say,_ the voice taunted again.

 _Sod off_ , he told it.

"Great, Malfoy," he said aloud. "Fighting with yourself. You've finally gone around the bend."

Firmly ignoring the further taunts in his head, Draco headed to their bedroom and uttered a quick "Ha!" when he noticed all of Ginny's clothes were still there, as well as an unfinished article and a half-written letter to her editor, Taira. Deciding she must simply be taking her time walking back from the village, Draco changed out of his work robes and into slacks and a sweater.

A few minutes later, he was walking down the overgrown path, meaning to meet her on the way back. His eyes scanned the grove of trees to his left and the swaying field of grass to his right, searching for a sign of her. When he finally found one, he sank to his knees.

Her wand lay forgotten in the lane, a shopping bag right next to it. Draco picked the wand up, his hand trembling uncontrollably. "Ginny," he breathed, fear squeezing his heart like a vise.

^*^*^*^*^

"David, Katia and Zach, if I could have your attention up here for a moment?" Harry did his level best to stifle the smile that threatened to appear. The three Gryffindors, huddled together at a back table, raised their heads in unison. Katia shoved a handful of papers into her bag and Harry made a mental note to talk to them after class.

Ten minutes later he wrapped up his lecture. When the three students were at his desk, he listened as they explained what they'd been doing. Before they made it a quarter of the way through, Harry silenced them. He consulted his watch, nodded once, then instructed the three of them to follow him.

It took a while to reach Hermione's classroom. Two months ago, a trio of rather active ghosts had taken residence in the suits of armor lining the corridor. And, as bad luck would have it, Sirs Brian, Stephen and Maximillian were in another of their famous fights this afternoon, hurtling bits of their armor at one another.

Harry settled them down and the party of four nearly ran past before the volley started up again. Once they'd reached the right room, they paused outside while she finished her lecture.

"I want three feet written by next week summarizing the differences between American and British Muggles," she called as her students filed out.

"Three feet?" Harry smirked as he crossed the threshold. "A bit harsh, don't you think?"

"No one had done their reading assignments."

Harry bit back the wisecrack that he was dying to make. Hermione had commented that she didn't approve of students not being as prepared as she had been, but he'd never thought she'd assign extra work for it. Hormonal Hermione must have struck again. He tried to blank his face, bite the insides of his cheeks, and think of…anything horrid. But he was fighting a losing battle.

But Harry's struggle for composure had made Hermione giggle as well. "I know. Not everyone comes as prepared as I used to. And if you say one word about hormones, Harry Potter, I'll transfigure your tongue into a sausage." Harry had to admit, he sort of enjoyed the acidic side of his wife at times.

"Did you know that you get your accent back when you teach this class?" Harry asked, slipping his arms around her middle and smartly changing the subject.

"I do?"

"Hmmm. It's like being back in that library, Jane," Harry lowered his mouth to hers, stopping a hairs breadth from contact when his forgotten students cleared their throats.

"Sorry to interrupt, Professor Potter, but did you want us to stay?" David asked.

"Yes, please come in, sorry about that. Katia, could you repeat what you told me a few moments ago?"

"Er…yes. We think we've figured out what Triuna Crudus means, Professor Granger."

"How did you even know about it?" Hermione remembered straining to hear the woman, and she'd been less than three feet from her.

"I overheard it," David said, blushing slightly. By the look on his face, he was clearly praying no one asked how.

"Well, don't keep me in suspense." Hermione was beginning to see the similarities Harry saw in these three with the other rather infamous Gryffindors.

Katia cleared her throat, then looked to David and Zach who urged her on. "I took Latin for a few years before I came here. It's always fascinated me, as it's the formation for all the words we use…"

"Katia," David interrupted.

"Right. So I recognized 'crudus' right off. It means raw, or rough. It's the base of the word crude, which is obvious. You can tell what many common Latin words are by deriving …"

"Katia," Zach interrupted this time, and then rolled his eyes at Harry. Once again, he found himself biting the insides of his cheeks. Beside him, Hermione stifled a laugh in her hands by pretending to cough.

"Sorry. Anyway, when I recognized the one word, I wanted to see if I could find out what the triuna part meant. It sounded familiar, but it took me the longest time to place. Then I overheard Professor McGonagall talking about you and Professor Potter and Mr. Weasley. She said something about the terrible trio."

Katia blushed furiously at this and averted her eyes away from Hermione. Over the student's heads, Harry shot Hermione an evil wink.

"And then it hit me. It was so simple I should have placed it right off. I think 'triuna' might be a variation of triune which means 'three in one' or a trinity." Katia finished her recitation and smiled shyly at the teachers.

"I'm very impressed, Katia," Harry said in his best professor's voice. "Thank you for letting us know what you found. But if I'm not mistaken, the rest of the school must be at dinner by now."

The three students got the hint and made their way quickly out of the classroom.

"What do you think?" Harry asked his wife once the footsteps had died away.

"I think that sounded way too familiar," Hermione smiled. "It was looking through a time warp."

Harry grinned. "Do you think they have something? I mean a raw trinity? Sounds like a dish at one of those sushi bars you told me about."

"But at least it gives us a place to start," Hermione said. She walked towards him, not stopping until the bulge of her stomach rested against his flat one. "Now tell me honestly. I wasn't that…er… verbose back then, was I?" With every word, Hermione's hands had crept up towards his neck, and her fingers were now tickling the base of his neck.

"Not in the slightest, love," Harry lied easily, lowering his head towards hers. Harry almost swore when someone else cleared his throat, interrupting them.

"Honestly," Ron said, leaning against the door jamb, "don't you two ever quit?"

"No," Harry said, shortly. "Sod off."

"Such language from a Hogwarts teacher, Harry. I'm shocked."

"Then sod off," Harry repeated with a grin, but then the look on Ron's face finally registered. "What is it?"

"Something happened," Ron's voice dropped. "I need you both to come back to my apartment with me."

"Is this a reunion party?" Dumbledore asked as he entered the classroom right behind Ron.

^*^*^*^*^

Ron was only gone for five minutes when Ginny started to pace. Once she'd gotten over the dizziness of her fainting spell, she'd started to get worried. What could be so serious that Ron had wanted her to stay put and not go home? Okay, she reasoned, being attacked had been frightening, but she didn't think it warranted bringing Harry and Hermione into it.

Besides, she needed to get back to the Manor. It was already past four in the afternoon. Draco would be home from the ministry at any moment, and he'd get worried if she wasn't there. Her job as a columnist for Witch Weekly let her work from home -- a perfect arrangement as she could send her columns in by owl and avoid the questions and speculation from coworkers that her pregnancy would inevitably cause.

After walking the equivalent of several miles around the small apartment, Ginny decided to use a bit of Ron's Floo powder and get herself home. After what she'd experienced, she wanted Draco. His comforting arms around her, his silky voice telling her it would be okay. His skilled hands taking all her worries away. If it hadn't been for the look on Ron's face, she'd have left the moment he did.

"Sibling loyalty," she muttered to herself, and then sent up a silent prayer that Ron would find some of that in him when he discovered her _other_ secret.

"Ah, Ron," Ginny smiled, locating the powder on the fireplace mantle. "Just like you to leave it in the same place Mum does. But where the devil is your wand?" She rummaged through drawers, looked under the pile of papers on the coffee table but it was nowhere to be found. Sighing deeply, Ginny knelt in front of the fireplace to try and light a fire the Muggle way. A sudden movement over her right shoulder distracted her.

Her heart pounded in her chest as Ron's bedroom door swung open. A tall blonde woman, quite pregnant, was standing in the doorway. Her face was nearly frozen in fear, her hands out in front of her in a warding off motion. Her mouth kept opening and closing, but no words came out.

"Mariah?" said a stunned Ginny.

^*^*^*^*^*^

"Renae!" The man barked her name, and Renae shook inwardly. Outside, her appearance was serene. Inside, she was scared to death.

"Yes, milord?"

"Where is the girl?" he barked again, louder this time.

"She Disapparated before I could get the spell in place. She was too fast for me. I wasn't expecting…"

The slap across her face stopped further excuses. "You weren't expecting? You're a Diviner, Renae. Don't give me that. You're precognitive."

"Not about right hooks, obviously," she muttered, then flinched when his hand raised again. But he didn't strike her. Instead, a chilling smile spread across his face. Renae knew that smile and began to wish he had hit her instead.

"Actually," he stroked his smooth pale skin, "this may just work out. Granted, I wanted to talk to her. She was the next step in setting this plan in motion. But all might not be lost. Perhaps I can turn your incompetence to my advantage."

The man turned to face her, then dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Leave me, Renae. I need to think. I will call for you when you're needed."

Renae shuddered violently when she heard the devil's own laugh emit from his throat as she left the drawing room.

^*^*^*^*^*^*

"I just received an owl from the Ministry, Harry, and thought I should tell you immediately," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling.

"What?" Harry said, barely controlled impatience evident in his tone.

"Sorry," Dumbledore chuckled. "Dramatic pauses are a favorite of mine. On to business, the scroll you were sent has been verified as a forgery. Just this morning, actually, according to the letter sent by Mr. Finnegan."

"But how?" Hermione asked, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"On the advice of Seamus' father, a Muggle if I remember correctly, he sent the parchment to a colleague in America. They have laboratories that specialize in this type of work. Every spell, charm and potion the Ministry used showed it was authentic. But with one simple aging test, the Muggle lab dated the ink as approximately six months old."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, gauging their varied reactions. "But the scroll being a forgery comes with it's own set of problems. Namely, who forged it and why?"

A deafening silence filled the room as each pondered this turn of events. Hermione was secretly thrilled that she'd been right all along, but was still concerned about who was behind this whole affair. Ron couldn't think of much else but the attacks on Ginny and Mariah, and if they were connected to the forgery.

Harry felt both extremely stupid and incredibly angry. He'd spent months worrying about the scroll and its portents, only to find now that he'd wasted that time on someone's cruel joke. Anger was surging through him at the same time for the person who had perpetrated it.

But even with the scroll discounted as a fake, Harry still had one nagging question.

"Headmaster," Harry said, "when we spoke after the woman's departure, both you and Sybill Trelawney seemed to recognize the term triuna crudus…" he trailed off, letting Dumbledore finish the thought.

"Sybill and I are working on that, Harry. As far as we can tell, though, it involves no one connected to this school. It's nothing you need concern yourselves with."

Dumbledore seemed to pick up on their desire to speak privately and left a few moments later. Harry got the feeling he was also leaving before they could press him for specifics.

"Ron," Hermione said after Dumbledore's footsteps had faded away, "what were you going to tell us before Professor Dumbledore arrived?"

"Ginny's at my apartment -" Ron began, then trailed off. "I'll tell you on the way."

"On the way where?" Harry asked.

"To your quarters. It's the only place in the whole school we'll be able to use Floo powder." Ron was already at the door, clearly impatient for them to follow.

"I'm assuming you'll explain why."

"On the way," Ron repeated, then started walking.

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other briefly before following him, both conveying the same thought. Whatever mystery Ron had been harboring, they were about to be clued in.

They began the long trip up to Harry and Hermione's apartment, Ron talking the whole time. It was as if a verbal dam had broken somewhere inside Ron. The words poured from him about Mariah's appearance, the wards he'd placed around the apartment, Ginny's disappearing act, both of the pregnancies, and everything else he'd been holding back.

Hermione, sensing the anguish within him, grasped his hand firmly as they approached the apartment door. "We'll sort it out, Ron," she said quietly.

Ron stopped and turned to both of them. He was very glad that words weren't necessary between them at times like this. By their faces, he knew they felt his gratitude.

^*^*^*^*^*

"I think I know a spell that will restore your voice, Mariah, but the woman took my wand from me and I didn't get it back before I Disapparated."

Mariah merely nodded, her face revealing her doubts. She knew nothing but a miracle would give her back the voice the blonde man had stolen within moments of her arrival at his castle. Mariah had gone against every survival instinct she possessed when she'd opened the bedroom door to face Ginny. But from what she overheard, Ginny was attempting to leave the apartment, and she'd promised Ron she'd keep his sister here.

There had been a few moments of stunned silence as the two women sized each other up. Ginny's jaw had dropped as she noticed Mariah's overly large abdomen. She'd done some mental arithmetic and seemed to come up with a number she liked.

"I take it I'm going to be an Auntie again?" Ginny smiled. And as simple as that, the tension had broken.

It had taken a few minutes to get Ginny to understand that she couldn't speak, and they had been carrying on a rather stilted conversation. Mariah's being limited to hand signals and yes or no answers hadn't helped.

"I wish Ron would get back. I really need to be getting home. You don't think I could just send a message…"

When Mariah shook her head vigorously, blonde hair waving about wildly, Ginny sighed.

"And, of course, you can't tell me why," Ginny muttered out loud. Ginny looked up at Mariah to make sure the other woman knew she was joking, but Mariah had a faraway look on her face. Ginny could tell that her attention had been taken elsewhere. She sat up straighter and motioned towards the fireplace.

"You want me to light a fire?" Ginny asked.

Mariah shook her head and gestured again.

"Ron's coming back?" Mariah nodded and held up two fingers, then pointed to the ring finger on her left hand. "With Harry and Hermione?"

Mariah nodded again.

"They don't know you're here, do they?" Ginny guessed, seeing a wave of apprehension pass over her face.

Before Ginny could say anything else, a fire erupted in the grate and Ron, Harry and Hermione stepped through it.

"Mariah!" Hermione said, half-laughing, half-crying as she flung herself into her friend's arms. Not an altogether easy task, given the advanced stage of Mariah's pregnancy and the bulging beginning of Hermione's.

Hermione's tears seemed to be contagious. Within seconds, Ginny and Mariah were sobbing as well.

Harry and Ron stood transfixed at the spectacle before them, completely at a loss about what to do with three sobbing pregnant women.

"So, what do you reckon Gryffindor's chances are for the Quidditch Cup this year?" Ron said casually.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry and Ron didn't move for quite a while; neither did the many-armed crying mass on the couch. Several times, Ron cleared his throat but all he got was louder sobbing.

Every now and then, Harry heard Hermione's voice above the racket. "I'm so glad you're okay." "I've missed you." "I've been so worried." But as each sentence was punctuated with another sob, Harry tuned out quickly. Seeing Hermione cry, even in happiness, made his heart ache.

Harry saw Ron stare purposefully at Mariah, saw her eyes rise to meet his, and then saw a smile cross his face.

"Er, Ron?" Harry began, touching his friend's shoulder to get his attention.

"Let's sit over here," Ron said, indicating the pair of chairs across from the weeping women who all seemed to be talking at once now, Mariah gesticulating and nodding wildly. "There's something I haven't told you yet about Mariah."

"Yeah, I kinda guessed that," Harry grinned.

Ron filled Harry in on the rather unique way he and Mariah communicated these days, and Harry, thankfully, didn't press him for the reasons why. Before either of them could speak again, the sobbing dwindled down to a few watery sniffles. "Thank goodness," Ron said to the three of them, "I thought we were going to have to move to higher ground to escape the flood waters."

 _Very funny,_ Mariah thought at him.

"Very funny," Ginny and Hermione said at the same time.

 _Mariah_ , Ron asked, meeting her eyes once again. How much do you want me to tell them about…us?

 _Whatever you're comfortable with, Ron_. _They're your family._ A small, almost embarrassed smile tilted the corners of her mouth. When he matched it, her face broke into a wide, brilliant, tearstained-cheek grin that warmed him to the tips of his toes. Ron wondered vaguely if this was what Harry meant when he talked about Hermione's smile.

Ron was surprisingly touched that she'd referred to Harry and Hermione as his family. Not many people realized the depth of their connection.

Ron barely opened his mouth to begin when Ginny stood, wiped the tears from her cheeks and announced that she was heading home. A flurry of arguments met that statement. Mariah ended them all when she stood and stomped her foot on the floor.

When she had their attention, she raised a hand at Ginny then stared right at Ron. When Ron spoke, it was to two very confused sets of brown eyes and one set of smug green ones. "Mariah says you shouldn't leave yet, Ginny. She says you're probably still in danger of attack."

Ginny looked from Ron to Mariah several times like she was watching a tennis match. Something in their expressions must have convinced her, because she returned to the couch, sat and crossed her arms.

"Whoever this mystery man of yours is Ginny, he can wait for a few more minutes, can't he?"

"It'll be more than that since I can't Apparate back, Ron. But yes, he can wait." Ginny just hoped he wasn't too worried about her. Knowing Draco, though, that was like hoping for snow in midsummer.

"Mariah," Hermione interrupted the sibling glaring contest, "Ron said you lost your voice, is that right?"

"No, Hermione," Ron clarified, "it was taken by her kidnapper."

A light seemed to dawn over Hermione's head. "I'd like to try something, if that's okay?" When Mariah nodded, Hermione took out her wand and began muttering words none of them had ever heard before.

Mariah sat up suddenly and clutched a hand to her throat.

"Hang on," Ron protested and laid his hand on Hermione's arm. "You're hurting her."

"It's all right, Ron," Mariah said weakly, her long denied voice scratchy and soft but undeniably functional.

Ron's hand dropped from Hermione's arm and he stared openmouthed at Mariah. "It works?"

"It works," she smiled back.

Ron had been expecting to feel happiness when or even if she ever got her voice back. And a large part of him _was_ glad to hear the soft, American accented sound of her voice…but he also felt a sense of melancholy about losing the mental connection they'd shared over the past few weeks.

 _It's still there, Ron._

Their eyes met. Ron grinned like an idiot, and Mariah blushed slightly.

"Anyone else getting the feeling we're missing something here?" Harry quipped, then was rewarded with an elbow to the stomach from his wife. "Ooof. Where'd you learn that little trick, by the way?"

"I've learned loads of new charms and spells during my work on the rebound. This one was a variation on the Voccularus charm. It has more power, enough to counter a curse strong enough to rob someone of their voice."

"But why would anyone want to take your voice, Mariah?" Ginny asked.

And so the question came. Mariah knew it was inevitable. After all, not many people were robbed of the ability to speak outside of mermaids in Disney movies. She'd debated with herself over this - how much to tell them. As much as she trusted these people who were her closest friends, breaking her vow of secrecy to the Order would put others in danger of discovery. In the end, Mariah decided to keep as close to the truth as possible while revealing very little. It wasn't going to be easy.

She studiously avoided Ron's eyes as she phrased her answer. "Whoever this man was, he knew enough about me to know that I have a certain…gift. I can use my voice to get people to do what I want. Sort of like the Jedi Knights in the movies." She felt rather than saw Ron's eyes on her, but she kept her attention focused away from him.

"Is that why he kidnapped you, Mariah?" Hermione asked. "Did he want you to use this gift for his own purposes?"

"I don't think so," she said quietly. "I think he was after the baby. Which is why I don't think that you should be going anywhere alone, Ginny. You either, Hermione."

Silence enveloped the room like a shroud. Ginny looked stunned; Harry moved to Hermione's side and took her hand. Ron didn't move. Slowly, timidly, she raised her eyes to his.

 _Exactly how much have you been keeping from me, Mariah?_

Their eyes met and their thoughts parried with one another's. Finally, when Harry cleared his throat loudly, Mariah broke the eye contact and sent one last word. Later.

"It fits," Harry said suddenly and all eyes focused on him. "The scroll, the Daemonica story, the woman that showed up at Hogwarts. For whatever reason, this ruse is being used to get us concerned about the unborn of the wizarding world. The only question is, why?"

"What is a Daemonica? And what woman?" Mariah asked suddenly, her eyes focusing on him like twin blue lasers.

Harry filled Mariah and Ginny in on the events of the last few weeks, occasionally glaring at Ron for not telling Mariah any of it. Both of the women reacted the same way Hermione had upon hearing of the Daemonica, and Harry was glad to be able to tell them immediately that it was a hoax.

"But a very expertly manipulated hoax," Harry pointed out. "And one directed at one of my deepest fears. Hermione and I, as well as Professor Dumbledore, think that Draco Malfoy might be behind this, but as no one has talked to him in a while there's no way of confirming it. So now we not only have to find out where he is, we have to find out why he's so desperate for a wizard child that he'd kidnap you, Mariah, and attempt to kidnap you, Ginny."

Ginny was mere seconds away from biting off her own tongue in anger. How dare they? How dare they accuse her husband, slander his name with no real proof? Her heart aching for him and crying out for her to defend him, Ginny inhaled sharply, her face nearly the color of her hair.

But when she pictured Draco's face in her mind's eye, her anger cooled almost instantly. She couldn't dispute that she and Mariah had both met danger. She knew with every fiber of her soul that Draco had nothing to do with either attack, but _she_ had no proof, either. And she could do more to prove his innocence if she didn't give in to her temper and announce to the whole room that she was married to prime suspect number one.

She refocused her attention onto the group when she heard Ron's voice. "And that's why I don't want you going back home, Gin," Ron was saying in his best I'm-the-big-brother voice. "At least not alone. Let me or Harry go with you, make sure you get back to your mystery man safely."

Ginny felt herself trapped in the web of her secret life. She called herself every kind of coward for not standing up to her family before now and introducing her husband to them. And now was definitely not the time for it. Now was the time to placate, to give in, and to gather information.

"No, you're right," she said simply, "if you think there's that much danger, I'll stay here."

Harry and Ron shared an uneasy glance, almost afraid of how easy it had been to convince her.

^*^*^*^*

Harry and Hermione strolled back to Hogwarts, taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather. With an umbrella of stars, a bright hunter's moon overhead and a near tropical breeze flirting with the hems of their robes, they were in no hurry to return. They strolled lazily, hand in hand, each lost in their own thoughts about the night's events.

Harry didn't speak until they crossed through the Hogwarts gates and started towards the castle. Hermione nudged him towards the lake instead. They waved at Hagrid's new helpers, a pair of 19-year-old twins named Zeph and Zorb, who were attempting to corral a herd of goats into the empty paddock behind Hagrid's hut.

"Impressions?" he asked his wife.

"Ron's in love with her," Hermione said simply.

"What?" Harry stopped walking. He hadn't expected that.

"But I don't think he knows it yet," she finished, barely containing a smile. Harry still looked puzzled, so she explained. "You can see it in the way he takes care of her. Her voice got scratchy, he went for water. She started to roll her shoulders, he reached over and began rubbing the spot behind her neck. And then there were the fingers."

"Fingers?" Harry smiled, "I'm sick with suspense, Mione. Do explain about the fingers."

Hermione cuffed him on the side of the head playfully. "While you were talking about the woman and the scroll, Ron took her hand and started playing with her fingers. I don't even think he knew he was doing it."

She glared at him soundly and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "Just what is so bloody funny, Potter?"

"My logical, practical wife is a hopeless romantic," Harry laughed, sweeping his arms around her and hugging her tight. He loosened his grip enough to meet her cinnamon tinted eyes. There was a mixture of irritation and desire swimming in them. Harry decided to act on the desire part and fastened his lips to hers.

Hermione tried to resist for all of two seconds, but Harry's kisses were too tempting to resist for long. Standing on her toes, Hermione took the initiative and deepened the kiss, thrusting her tongue between his lips and plundering. His arms tightened slightly in deference to her growing middle, and she left his mouth to trail wet kisses towards his neck.

"Uh…Hermione," Harry half spoke, half groaned. "We should really stop unless you want to chance being caught like a couple of hormone-crazed sixth years."

"It's night, Harry. Students aren't allowed on the grounds this late," Hermione's lips continued up his neck towards his ear.

"Like that ever stopped us," he reminded her, then nearly stumbled when she pulled away altogether.

"What were we talking about?" Hermione asked a bit breathlessly, trying to remember what she'd said before Harry had kissed her senseless.

"Impressions of the night's events. I saw one you apparently missed," he said, with only a trace of smugness in his voice.

"Which was?"

"Mariah has a band around her wrist identical to the one you described. The one our mystery guest had tattooed on hers. Left wrist, black band, right?"

Hermione stopped abruptly, a look of frozen shock on her face. "You're sure?"

"Dead sure, and she was trying to keep it covered. Every time her sleeve crept up, she'd tug it back down immediately. What is it, do you think?"

"I don't know." But the familiar look was back on Hermione's face, and Harry knew she'd search every inch of the library until she _did_ know.

"It's been a while since we've taken this walk," Hermione said, her voice low and hand tightening on his.

"Yeah. Why is it that all of our problems seem to be discussed here?"

"Maybe the Squid is a magnet for people with issues," Hermione attempted a joke, but her husband's silence told her it had met deaf ears.

"What are you thinking?" Hermione prodded, stopping their forward progress and sitting on the bank.

Harry joined her. "That we have a bigger mess on our hands than I thought. A few hours ago, when Dumbledore told us the scroll had been proved a fake, I was relieved. But listening to what happened to Mariah and Ginny…"

"I know. I'm afraid for all of us. And our babies." Harry tugged at her shoulders until she was leaning back into him. His arms came around her and his hands rested on the swell of their child.

^*^*^*^*^*^

Pigwidgeon flew out of the open window leaving Ginny staring after him. One letter was being sent to her boss, Taira, informing her of the change in residence and the likelihood that her next column would be a few days late. The other she sent to Draco. Both letters had been short and to the point, but Draco's had been damn near anorexic.

 _Draco,_ she'd written, _something has come up and I have to stay at Ron's for a while. Please know that I am okay, apart from missing you, and that my being here is for the best. I will come home as soon as I can, I love you…always and forever, Ginny._

She hated that she couldn't write more. She wanted to spill out every event of the past few hours. Her anger at Harry and Ron for suspecting him, her fear over the botched kidnapping - but she didn't dare. She knew her husband well enough to know that he'd come charging to her side like an avenging angel.

Ginny lay down on the spare bedroom's hastily made bed with one hand behind her head and the other caressing the baby. The day's conversations were playing over and over in her mind. She kept hearing Harry say that Draco must want a child…

She slammed the door on the doubt trying to filter into her mind. Draco was having his own child, why would he need to kidnap Mariah or attempt to kidnap her, for pity's sake?

The only thing she knew with any certainty was that she needed to see him. He wouldn't be placated with letters for long. And in order to do that, she needed an ally. The only person she could think of was Hermione. Resolute, Ginny decided to tell Hermione as soon as possible about the marriage and let the chips fall where they may.

All at once, the day's events caught up with her. Lying in the quiet room, no longer needing adrenaline to keep her functioning, Ginny began to shake uncontrollably. She stoked the fire Ron had conjured for her and wrapped her body in blankets but nothing seemed able to stem the tremors wracking her body.

"Draco," she sobbed silently, wishing desperately that his strong arms could warm her.

^*^*^*^

Once everyone had left the apartment and Ginny had been settled for the night, Ron and Mariah faced each other. Both knew that the time for secrets and evasions had passed. Both knew that it was time to come clean with one another, despite the consequences.

Both hoped that they could at least remain friends once the conversation was over.

"Well," they said in unison, and an apprehensive laugh rumbled between them.

"Ladies first." They both took seats opposite each other; Ron in the armchair, Mariah stretched out on the couch, a pillow at the base of her spine for support.

Mariah smiled, took a sip of water, and said in her whisper soft voice, "why don't you ask me what you want to know first?"

"Let's see," Ron began ticking things off with his fingers. "First, we were fighting about my apparent blunder at thinking about our Bond. Second, there's your little 'gift'. Third, you tell me that the man was after our baby and may well be after Ginny's and Hermione and Harry's as well. That ought to do for starters."

"The thought that the man was after our baby is just a little more than a guess. He just acted…concerned, for lack of a better word, about it. After one attempted escape, I started having pain in my abdomen. He immediately summoned a midwitch. I tried to tell her that I was being held against my will, and I think I got through to her, but nothing ever came of it. I can only assume a memory charm was placed on her."

"Everything was okay, though," Ron pointedly eyed her stomach.

"Yes. It was nothing. But after that incident I realized that he never met my eyes. He just stared at my stomach and seemed to consider me nothing more than an incubator."

Ron said nothing, because, really, there was nothing to say. He was fighting down a rational desire to beat this unnamed man to a bloody pulp, as well as swallowing his fears for his child.

"You also wanted to know about my gift," Mariah said quietly.

Again, Ron remained silent. He merely glanced back into her eyes until she continued speaking.

"What I'm about to tell you must remain between us, Ron. Not just for my safety, but that of other Diviners. I don't know how much you're taught about us here in England, but it probably isn't much."

"All we were told was that Diviners are telepathic," Ron explained, calling on his memories of seventh year Divination.

"That's about right. As far as I know, that's all anyone outside the Order really knows. And I'm sorry I assumed otherwise earlier. We are a secret society, kept that way out of habit and fear, I guess. Centuries ago, Diviners were driven out of Europe by a wizarding community terrified of our powers. Or maybe I should say those of us that abused them."

"What powers?" Ron's brow creased. "I mean, all witches and wizards have powers, Mariah."

"Not like ours. We can harm, or heal, with just the strength of a thought. We can see into the past or future of any individual at will. We can persuade people to act however we wish by the words we use. Some have more power than others; some, like me, have very little."

"How can you harm someone with just a thought?" Ron asked, unconvinced. But seconds later, a gash appeared on his arm. Blood flowed bright and red towards his wrist before the wound sealed itself. If it hadn't been for the trail of sticky warm blood on his arm, he'd have thought the whole thing was just his imagination.

"My gift is primarily persuasion. That cut is about the extent of my Tactile ability. And even my Persuader gift isn't very strong. The head of our Order, Kalena, can make people perform as if under the Imperius curse just by talking to them."

"So you could, I don't know, make me walk off a cliff if I didn't act the way you wanted me to?" Ron tested.

"Not quite," Mariah grinned. She'd heard his thoughts and knew that he was just experimenting. "The most I could do would be to send you off for pickles and ice cream in the middle of the night after you'd said no."

"Pickles and ice cream?" Ron made a face.

"It's a pregnant thing."

He was silent for a while, and Mariah kept her face blank. "So," Ron began a little uneasily. "The Bond."

"The Bond," Mariah sighed. "Why don't you tell me what you think it involves and I'll tell you whether you're right or wrong?"

"Does it have to do with emotions?" Ron asked.

"Sort of," she answered meekly.

Ron waited for her to continue. When she didn't, Ron expelled his breath in a great huff. "Well, thanks loads for that informative answer. I'm all clear on it now," Ron spat in annoyance and stalked towards the window.

Mariah stayed where she was and spoke to his back. "What do you want me to say, Ron? For some, it is based on emotion. For some, it's more of a ceremonial thing. Bonding marks can come suddenly between two people and have to be induced in others. They are brought about naturally by strong…feelings…from the Diviner towards the bond."

Something in her voice made his heart hiccup and then resume beating at twice its normal speed. Ron turned and faced her, surprised to see a blush on her cheeks. He crossed to her in three strides and knelt beside her. She'd lowered her face so he placed a single finger under her chin to raise her eyes to his.

"Did you have strong feelings for me, Mariah?" he said, in a voice lower than a whisper.

She didn't trust her voice, so she stared directly into his eyes and answered him. Yes, I did.

 _Do you still?_ He asked, not entirely sure that his heart could keep up its frenetic pace without imploding from exertion.

"Before I answer that, you need to answer one thing for me," Mariah said aloud, causing Ron to give a small start. Her voice was still low, but very determined. "Do you still think that every tender feeling you have for me, every impulse to be near me stems from our being Bonded together?"

Ron had to think about that. Did he? He almost surprised himself when he realized that he didn't. He knew one thing with absolute certainty. If Mariah had been able to manipulate his emotions to keep him by her side, she'd have done it a long time ago. Besides which, he realized with a start, he trusted her. His feelings for her were entirely his own. And, based on the current status of his pulse rate, they were growing stronger every day.

When he focused on her again, Ron noticed tears pooling in her eyes. He grinned, guessing the cause. "Heard that, did you?"

"Yes," she said, wiping at the stray tear that had escaped. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Ron cupped her face reverently between his hands. "I enjoy having you in my mind, Mariah."

They'd been together almost without interruption for over a month. They'd conceived a child together. And for only the third time their lips came together. The first time had been an exploration of the unknown; the second had begun as a comfort. This time, it was an assault on his senses, on his heart. Ron felt every facet of his mind focus on the parts of him that touched her. It was as if his whole world centered on his hands and his lips and the feel of Mariah beneath them.

Their mouths parted on a mutual sigh. Ron touched his forehead to hers and their blue eyes met, smiles curving their swollen lips. And then Mariah yawned.

"I really knock your socks off, don't I?" Ron grinned, and then placed a solitary finger on her lips to silence the protestations. "You've had quite a day, Mariah. And you're still not entirely recovered."

Without another word, Ron moved to lift her from the couch. "Ron, you'll destroy your back. I weigh about the same as a small truck," Mariah protested weakly.

"You're forgetting, I'm a wizard," Ron puffed out his chest dramatically, drew out his wand and levitated her into his arms.

Mariah felt herself hit the soft mattress long before she was ready. She'd nearly forgotten how truly special it felt to be surrounded by his arms. "Stay, please," she said, already half asleep.

Ron looked at her then nodded. He drew the quilt around her, and lay down next to her. As he extinguished the candles that had been lit as the sun set, Mariah threaded her fingers through his and drifted off to sleep. He lay there quietly, listening to the soft sounds of her breathing, and felt the weight of her hand in his spread warmth through him like chocolate after a dementor's visit.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Ginny prepared for her talk with Hermione like a soldier prepared for battle. Unfortunately, she made a very poor soldier. Every time she pictured Hermione's shocked expression, she lost her nerve.

But she couldn't go on like this any longer, she needed Draco. And the only person who could help her get to him was Hermione.

Stepping out of the fire in Harry and Hermione's apartment, she glanced around quickly. Hermione was sitting at her desk, looking over a piece of parchment. Apparently arriving early wasn't going to give her any extra time to prepare. So, she thought, _straight into it, then._

"Hi, Ginny," Hermione smiled and laid the parchment on the desk. She indicated the tea tray on the small table and sat at one of the two chairs. "I've just made tea, come and sit down."

"ER," Ginny glanced at the cups warily, "you made it?" She'd been present at too many of Hermione's cooking lessons to trust anything her friend made. A talented witch she was, but in the kitchen, she rivaled Hagrid.

"Relax," Hermione smiled. "I poured hot water over tea bags. Even _I_ can do that properly."

They shared a slight laugh, but both turned serious almost immediately.

"I need your help, Hermione," Ginny blurted out.

"I didn't figure you asked to meet me, and not tell Harry about it, because you wanted to play Exploding Snap. That was a joke, Ginny," Hermione soothed at her friend's worried expression. "What is it? You know I'll do anything in my power to help you."

"I want to go home. Not to stay, just to see…him. It's been a week, Hermione, and I'm going crazy. I just want to see him, talk to him, tell him I'm okay."

Hermione looked into Ginny's eyes. She didn't see the sorrow or longing she'd expected. Instead, she saw despair. And it tugged at her heart; she knew how she'd feel if separated from Harry. But there was still too much danger to let her go off alone. Just yesterday another pregnant witch had been accosted.

"Can you get there by Floo powder?" Hermione asked, not knowing whether the man in question was wizard or Muggle.

Ginny picked up her teacup and sipped while she rehearsed her answer again. No matter how she did this, it wasn't going to be pretty.

"What?" Hermione touched her friend's shoulder when she noticed the tears glistening around her brown eyes.

"I can get there by Floo powder, but in order to travel you have to say your destination out loud." She'd envisioned herself saying "Malfoy Manor" into the fire and then watching Ron implode.

"Ginny, just tell me who it is so we can fix this and get you two back together."

"It's Draco," she said on a loud exhale. Ginny had been expecting many different reactions. Laughter hadn't been one of them. In fact, Hermione was laughing so hard it took a few moments for her to regain her composure. "What's so funny?"

"Oh Gin," Hermione fought back another wave of giggles. "For a second there, I thought you'd said it was Draco."

"It is."

Hermione's face went from smiling to frowning in a nanosecond. "Draco Malfoy?"

"No, Hermione, Draco Schwartz. Of course, Draco Malfoy."

"But…how…Draco?"

Ginny put her teacup down and explained about the reception, the dating whirlwind, the elopement. Not surprisingly, Hermione listened. She didn't judge; she didn't scowl. And for that, Ginny was extremely grateful.

"Gin," Hermione began tentatively, "you know Harry and Ron both believe that Draco is responsible for all the attacks."

"But I know he's not. I've thought about nothing else for the past week, Hermione. And I can prove he's not involved. He was with me, constantly, the whole week after the reception. He couldn't have been stalking Mariah."

Hermione remained silent. The Draco she knew could very well have had an accomplice stalking Mariah while he solidified an alibi with Ginny. But for now, for Ginny, she'd give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Why haven't you said anything before now?"

"Because in order to clear his name, I'd have to tell Ron everything I just told you. He'll go mental, Hermione. I'm still scratching up the courage for that confrontation."

"This isn't going to be easy." Hermione picked up her own teacup and the pair began to plan.

^*^*^*^

 _Three weeks later_

Draco Malfoy sat at his Ministry issue desk, in his Ministry issue chair, staring at the Ministry issue memoranda piled around him. But all he could seem to focus on was the wand. Ginny's wand. It sat at the corner of his desk, a constant, heartbreaking reminder that she was gone. He'd kept it with him ever since he'd found it on the lane. That, and her almost daily letters, were all he had of her now.

The letters, he thought on a sigh. Uninformative as they were, he knew those brief bits of parchment were the only things keeping him sane. Prior to their meeting again at the reception, he would never have believed that he could miss someone so much, love someone so much, that their mere absence would almost shut him down completely.

And her two brief visits, while enjoyable at the time, had done nothing to alleviate the feeling of loss. It had been wonderful to hold her again, to kiss her, but it made him miss her even more when she'd left again. Draco supposed that was what love did; true love that is, not the facade his parents had shown.

Growing up, he'd known his parents had loved him. But it had been more the love of a possession than the love of a person. They never truly saw him as their son. He was the Heir. "You're Heir to all of this, Draco," they'd both said to him on countless occasions. Almost like a litany, one meant to drill the fact home to him lest he ever forget.

His mother's death in sixth year had hurt. Not unlike stubbing one's toe on the bedpost hurt. But like a stubbed toe, the hurt had faded rather quickly. His father's death, however, had hit him a bit harder. Every conversation about his Heir status had run nonstop through his head like so many bludgers. With his father's passing, he was to take up his rightful position as the Heir of the Malfoy estate. But that meant absolutely nothing to him.

Finally, he'd gone to the only person he knew could help him…the only person who would be honest with him, no matter how much he hated him. And Harry Potter had offered him a hand of friendship, even while suffused with unfathomable grief.

And that hand had given him the resolve to deny everything his father had drilled into him about the Malfoy's proper position as practitioners of the Dark Arts. A position, he realized that he had no interest in adopting.

It had taken a few years for Draco to collect himself after that revelation. A few glorious years of sun, and lightness, and a complete absence from anyone he'd ever known. He'd assumed an alias, the same one he now used at the Ministry, to keep his anonymity. He'd lived as a Muggle; something he knew would make Lucius Malfoy spin in his grave. But through those years, he'd come to know just who Draco Malfoy was. Not Lucius Malfoy's son, not the Malfoy Heir. Just Draco. Much to his surprise, he realized that he was a rather likeable sort.

Then, he thought grinning, he'd shown up at Harry and Hermione's reception to wish them well, and had walked straight into his destiny.

And now Ginny was with Ron, and, if what he'd overheard was correct, Potter was looking for him. As much as he wanted to respect her oft-stated desire for him to stay away, he just couldn't anymore. Not after her last letter, anyway. _D, I felt the baby kick again today. He or she is getting really active…_ Even though Ginny was adamant that this was not the time to reveal their relationship, Draco was tired of hiding. He was tired of lying. And he missed his wife with a desperation he'd never thought possible.

And so he was about to do what he'd sworn never to do again for the remainder of his life.

Draco Malfoy was going back to Hogwarts.

^*^*^*^*^

"Damn it," Hermione cursed, pushing the heavy book so hard that it flew to the floor with a loud, dusty thump. Between her failure to turn up anything to help with the Bloody Counter or with Diviners or wrist tattoos, Hermione was beginning to lose faith in the Hogwarts library again. She'd taken it as a personal affront both this time and back in fourth year while Harry was preparing for the second task. The library had always been her province. The one place she could always find answers.

And it ticked her off no end that there were no answers to be found.

"ER, Professor Granger?" said a small voice to her left.

Hermione turned to see Katia Tringle, Harry's young Gryffindor student. "Yes, Katia?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, Katia. I'm just a little frustrated at not being able to find what I'm looking for."

"Maybe if you told me what it is, I could help you. I know the library fairly well and I've always found everything I needed here."

Hermione found herself adopting Harry's habit by biting the insides of her cheeks whenever she was around Katia. It was uncanny the way this girl mirrored the girl Hermione used to be. "That's part of the problem, Katia. I'm not entirely sure what I'm looking for. There are no references to Diviners or wrist markings…" she broke off at Katia's sudden intake of breath.

"I'll be right back, Professor," Katia called over her shoulder, already disappearing into the stacks. Moments later, the girl was walking back towards Hermione with a large volume under her arm.

"What's this?" Hermione cocked her head to the side to read the title, _A History of Little Known Sects in the Magical World._

"I got it out after History of Magic last week," Katia told her. "And I remember reading something in here about wrist marks." She began to page through the book just as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of afternoon classes. "Oh my," Katia exclaimed, obviously conflicted. "I'm late for Professor Potter's class. But I want to show you what I found."

"I'll find it, Katia," Hermione said with a grin and scribbled on a piece of spare parchment. "Give this to Professor Potter, and he'll know you were helping me."

Hermione stared after the younger version of herself, fighting a sudden urge to laugh. Then she focused on the text in front of her. Resigned to another fruitless search, she began turning pages until she found exactly what she was looking for.

"Bloody hell," she muttered, then began to read in earnest. Two hours later, she was still poring over the very few, yet very informative pages on Diviners.

Harry stood at the entrance of the library for a few moments, studying her while she studied the book. How many times, he thought, had he found her here, in exactly that same position?

He wished he had happy news to impart to her, any news besides more attacks. But he didn't. Dumbledore had just told him about two other attempted kidnappings on pregnant witches. That made a total of seven incidents. All perpetrated by the blond woman with the mark on her wrist.

Now pregnant women, and their husbands, were starting to show up at the gates, begging for sanctuary. Dumbledore granted it. But he still refused to tell Harry anything about the Triuna Crudus beyond the fact that he and Professor Trelawney were working on it.

Heart heavy, Harry walked towards Hermione and, as she was oblivious to everything but the book in front of her, he leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

"Not here, Filch. Someone will see," Hermione grinned, not looking up from the book.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"I knew the moment you entered the library, love. Come and look at this." Hermione pulled the chair next to her out and Harry sat. He read what she was pointing to, his mouth falling further open with every word he read.

"You've got to talk to Mariah," Harry said when he'd finished.

"If I can get her and Ron apart for longer than two minutes." The newlyweds shared a smile at the thought of their best friends. Ron and Mariah had been acting like newlyweds themselves for the past month. For Hermione and Harry, it was like an answered prayer. "It's wonderful to watch them together, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I don't envy him when Molly finds out about all of this, though. Both Ginny and Ron keeping the news of impending grandchildren from her? She'll send howlers until the kids start at Hogwarts."

"If they survive that long," Hermione said sadly, placing a hand on the child that was growing by leaps and bounds within her.

"Hermione," Harry's voice lowered and he placed his hand on top of hers. "You're safe here. Talk to Mariah. Go now, if it makes you feel better. We may want to try and convince Ginny and Mariah to come stay here as well. I know Ron's got wards up at the apartment, but those can be broken. I'll go back to Dumbledore with what you've found. Maybe now he'll talk to me."

 _And,_ Harry thought, _this time, he was going to stay in Dumbledore's office until he did._

^*^*^*^*^*^

Harry walked along the corridors towards his office. He had a few seventh years dropping off their research projects this evening, and he wanted to make sure he got them before tackling Albus Dumbledore.

He hadn't taken three steps into the office, but he knew instinctively that someone was there. Drawing his wand out and pointing it at his desk chair, he muttered "Lumos." As he did, the chair slowly turned to reveal its occupant.

"I hear you're looking for me, Potter," said Draco Malfoy in a slow drawl, his trademark smirk curling his lips.


	7. Chapter 7

In the course of their many years together, Renae had seen many sides to Sabastian Delaney…mostly dark ones. She wasn't, however, prepared for the almost maniacal giddiness that radiated from him now.

"Milord?" she asked, her voice smooth and even. "Where am I to go today?"

"Nowhere, Renae. We have other things to prepare for now. Witches and wizards are flocking to Hogwarts for protection from you. It's only a matter of time before she joins them. And when that happens, we must act quickly."

"Sabastian…" she began tentatively. There was no reaction from him outside of a raised hand. Renae backpedaled into the submissive role he'd placed her in more and more often since the fixation began. "Forgive my impertinence, Milord, but Hogwarts is known to be inaccessible. How is that -" she cut off abruptly when he stood and whirled towards her.

"Not _exactly_ inaccessible," Sabastian smiled at her, turned and left the sitting room, laughing loudly.

Renae tried to steady herself as violent tremors wracked her body. At some point during his pursuit of this woman, he had gone utterly insane. The eyes that she now looked into were not the eyes of the man she had once known and loved. Instead, they reflected a wild obsession; the soul of a man gone mad with his quest for vengeance

She realized that she could no longer handle the situation alone. She needed help.

^*^*^*^*^

Hermione arrived at the front entrance to Weasley's not ten minutes after she'd left Harry in the library. She'd opted against traveling by Floo powder. Even though the evening had turned brisk, she needed the fresh air and the time -- to clear her mind and collect her thoughts. Harry had insisted she use the Invisibility Cloak, and she had without argument.

"Hello, Lissanne," Hermione called to the witch behind the counter as she breezed past. "Open a little late tonight, aren't you?"

"Did you forget that it's a Hogsmeade weekend tomorrow?" Lissanne smiled back. "It'll take at least another two hours before I'm ready for the invasion."

Hermione chuckled as she walked straight back to the office. "I'm just going to run up and see Ron for a moment," she said airily.

"I don't think he's there," Lissanne's brow creased. "He said something about heading off to London for a resupply of Canary Creams."

"Then I'll just leave him a message if he isn't there."

"Shall I walk you up?" Lissanne was clearly protective of her employer's private quarters, and Hermione respected that. But she knew that he was up there and didn't want an audience.

"That's quite all right," Hermione smiled and made her way up the stairs. But she could feel the woman's eyes following her.

Once she reached the landing, Hermione knocked three times in rapid succession, paused, then repeated. They'd decided on the code knock so that Mariah wouldn't have to conceal herself when she or Harry came to visit.

The door swung open by itself, and Hermione walked through quickly, shutting the door behind her. Ron and Mariah were on the couch facing each other; Ron had his wand out. Hermione nearly sent herself into premature labor holding back the laughter.

"Am I interrupting?" she said, tongue in cheek.

"Nope," Ron answered without looking up. "Nearly done." And he was. Eight of Mariah's toes were now artfully painted with a shocking red polish.

Mariah met Hermione's eyes as she sat across from them. "I was complaining to Ron that I hadn't seen my feet in so long that I'd nearly forgotten what they look like," she explained, "and he, uh, sort of volunteered to…"

Hermione held up a hand. "No explanations necessary," she said with a grin. "I'll have to get you to teach Harry that spell. Where's Ginny?"

"Already asleep, I think," Mariah answered, glancing at the second bedroom's closed door.

"There!" Ron said in a pleased voice while admiring his handiwork. "Did you need something?"

"Actually, I came to talk to Mariah. We haven't really had a chance for girl talk since I found out she was here."

If either of them heard the serious undertone in her voice, they didn't let on. "Good idea," Ron said after a telling look at Mariah. "I'll just head off and walk around a bit, shall I?"

Hermione remained silent until Ron Apparated out, gathering her thoughts into some semblance of order. She'd decided a casual start was the best approach.

"You seem very happy together."

Mariah smiled and blushed slightly. "I know we shouldn't be, with everything that's going on, but we are. I think we've finally put the past behind us. Who knows, we may even have a future together."

"Of course you have a future together, you're expecting his child."

"I meant the two of us, not the three of us. Oh Hermione, I think I'm in love with him. And not the love I thought I felt at first. This is so different. He makes me laugh; he exasperates the hell out of me. We fight, we make up. It's just so…"

"Wonderful," Hermione finished for her, knowing exactly how she felt. From what she'd seen, Ron felt the same. She only hoped it was strong enough to survive what was coming.

"I need to ask you something," Hermione began, biting her lip. "But I guess I need to tell you something first."

She took a deep breath and plunged on. "I found an old reference to Diviners in the library and what I read…let's just say it was disturbing. Do you know why there aren't many Diviners in Europe anymore?"

"I was told that we were expelled out of fear."

"That's partially true, but apparently there's more to it than that. According to what I read, there was a mass exodus. Diviners began to leave England in droves during and after a series of attacks on pregnant witches. There seemed to be some connection between the Diviners and the attacks, but it's ambiguous. However, the word Triuna was mentioned."

"Dear God," Mariah breathed heavily, clasping both hands around her stomach.

"I take it that word means something to you." Hermione paused. "Tell me," she prompted when Mariah remained silent.

"It's been years since my mother told me the story." She stopped to recall exactly what she'd been told. "A Triuna is said to be a Diviner of intense powers. She will have all three Diviner gifts to the utmost of their strength."

"All three?"

"She'll be a Persuader, able to control people absolutely, a Tactile with the ability to kill with a thought, and a Knower, able to see inside anyone's thoughts, their past and their future. She'll be a joining of all three of the Diviner abilities. And a force to be feared by any that cross her."

With this final bit of information, Hermione was able to put it all together. "So a Triuna Crudus would be this Diviner as an infant, then?"

"Yes. Where did you hear that term?"

Hermione looked puzzled; surely Ron would have told her what had happened by now. Then she remembered that this was Ron. "The woman that showed up at Hogwarts last month said it. She grabbed her wrist and said 'protect the Triuna Crudus.'"

"Her wrist," Mariah began and then seemed to have an internal debate.

"Yeah," Hermione took in a deep breath and looked Mariah straight in the eyes. "She had a mark on it very similar to yours."

"Oh my God," Mariah breathed, fingering the black mark. "She's Bonded to him," she muttered, and Hermione had the distinct impression that she was talking to herself. When she finally raised her eyes, Hermione nearly gasped at the dread in them.

"What is it, Mariah? What does that mean, 'bonded to him'?"

Mariah explained briefly about Diviner Bonds and Hermione sat rapt and unmoving until her friend finished.

"And you're bonded to Ron?"

"Yes." She watched Hermione closely, silently praying that she saw no hint of anger or concern over the Bond. She realized she shouldn't have been surprised that there wasn't any. Hermione only wanted information.

After a brief run down of what she had told Ron, Mariah relaxed. But there was another tension between them. A shared fear for Mariah and Ron's baby. Before they could comment further or, in fact, say anything at all, two sets of three knocks sounded on the door. Hermione used her wand to open the door, wondering vaguely what had brought Harry to the door instead of the fireplace.

She gasped aloud when Ron's assistant appeared there instead.

"Lissanne?" Hermione questioned.

Her confusion turned to astonishment when her best friend spoke.

"Kalena?" Mariah asked in a fearful whisper.

^*^*^*^*^

Ron whistled softly as he walked the familiar corridor towards Harry's office. After bumming around Hogsmeade for a while, he'd decided to head to Hogwarts and visit Harry while Mariah and Hermione chatted. When he heard the voices coming out of the office, Ron knew it had been fate that led him there.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry was asking. Just the name made the hair stand up on the back of Ron's neck.

"I want to know where Ginny is," Malfoy said simply and without inflection. "I miss my wife."

"Your what?" Ron said in a low and cruel voice as he walked into the office. He'd have said more, but he was too busy fighting down the nausea over Malfoy using "Ginny" and "my wife" in the same sentence. Malfoy couldn't be the man Ginny had been seeing. He just couldn't. It was too horrible to be true.

"My wife, Weasley," he drawled, clearly not enjoying the malice on Ron's face, but not cowering from it either.

Harry watched the sparks flying off both men with rising apprehension. Surreptitiously, he removed his wand from the inside pocket of his robes and waited.

Ron took a bit of time, staring into Malfoy's gray eyes, trying to find deception in them. When he found no trace, he felt his blood reach full boil. "You mean your widow, Malfoy."

Ron launched himself at Malfoy. He hadn't gone two steps forward when Harry raised his wand. One _Petrificus Totalus_ later and Ron was flat on his back.

" _Finite Incantatum,"_ Harry ended the spell once he had placed himself between Ron and Draco.

Ron sat up, rubbing his head. "Now I know what Neville meant by ouch."

"I owe you one, Potter. He had murder in his eyes."

"Then I'm collecting now, Malfoy. Tell me what you're really doing here."

"I told you, I'm here to see Ginny."

"I see," Ron snarled, lowering himself into a chair and fixing Malfoy with a death glare. "You're little helper failed to kidnap her, so you decided to take the direct approach?"

Harry had to admit he'd been thinking along the same lines. But he was watching Malfoy while Ron spoke; the shock in the other man's eyes was too genuine, too raw. Draco wasn't that good an actor.

"Someone tried to kidnap Ginny?" Draco whispered, his piercing gray eyes fixing on Harry.

"As if you didn't know," Ron said.

And Harry knew in that moment that Draco hadn't known.

^*^*^*^*^

Ginny walked into the living area of the apartment, the flurry of voices having awoken her. She glanced around at Hermione, Mariah and Lissanne. They all seemed to have been struck silent.

"Did I miss something?" she asked on a yawn. No one appeared to have heard her.

"You've never made anything easy for me, have you Mariah?" Lissanne said, confusing Ginny. As far as she knew, Ron's assistant didn't even know Mariah.

"Lissanne?" Hermione questioned, and Ginny saw her own confusion mirrored in her friend's face. Getting a welcoming look from Mariah, Ginny took the room's other chair and joined in staring at Lissanne.

"I don't know who Lissanne is," Mariah said, "but this woman is Kalena Sheldon, head of the Diviner Order. What are you doing here, Kalena?"

"Keeping an eye on you, Mariah."

"Wait a minute," Hermione held up a hand before the two women could continue. "Are you the same Kalena that owled me asking about Mariah?"

"Yes, Hermione. We tried everything in our power to find Mariah after she failed to return from the wedding. She's disappeared before, denied her gifts, lived as a Muggle and so forth, but this was different. Not long after I sent that owl, I found her. And I persuaded Mr. Weasley to hire me as an assistant. I wasn't sure why you were hiding from us, Mariah, but I wanted to give you space to figure it out on your own."

Kalena took a breath, surveyed the stunned faces around her and continued. "Why do you continue to defy me, Mariah…defy the Order?"

"What do you mean by defy, Liss - I mean Kalena?" Hermione asked defensively.

"When her gift manifested itself at eighteen, she fled from us, dyed her hair black and lived as a Muggle for quite some time before she came back to us."

"Why should it bother anyone that she dyed her hair? Witches do it all the time," Ginny asked, remembering the rather disastrous shade of brown her hair had been for a while.

"Through a quirk of genetics, girls born without powers are all black haired," Mariah explained softly.

"I know you weren't raised with the best role model, Mariah, but when are you going to realize that we're not all like your mother? That being a Diviner doesn't automatically mean that you become a manipulative user out only for personal gain?"

The question was obviously meant to be rhetorical. She shook her head when Mariah started to answer. Kalena walked over to the couch to kneel next to Mariah and grasped her wrist, baring the Bond mark to everyone's eyes. "And then there's this," she said exasperatedly. "I still don't know how you managed a Bonding ceremony. Or why you did it, considering how desperate you were to remove it in the first place."

Mariah's eyes widened. "What do you mean? I didn't perform any ceremony. The mark came back on its own the morning after Ron and I…"

Kalena gaped, visibly shaken. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't, Kalena. It wasn't long after that that I was abducted."

Hermione didn't think she'd ever truly seen anyone speechless before that moment. Kalena's mouth kept opening and closing without sound as Mariah told her all about the months she'd spent at the blonde man's castle. Once she'd finished, Kalena stood and began to pace, wringing her hands.

"You've got to get her somewhere safe, safer than this. Now," Kalena told Hermione. "I will be back as soon as I can." Without another word, she Disapparated.

"Hogwarts," Hermione and Ginny said at the same time.

^*^*^*^*^

Harry was beginning to feel a lot like Switzerland. After Draco had been told what had happened to Ginny the month before, a tense silence descended in the room. Ron and Draco were staring daggers at each other, and Harry continued to keep his wand at the ready in case one of them attacked again.

His right hand twitched when Ron suddenly stood, but he immediately recognized the faraway look in his friend's eyes. Mariah was telling him something, and by the widening of Ron's eyes, Harry knew it wasn't good news.

"Ron, what is it?" Harry tried to snap his friend's attention back to him.

"I don't know. It's not words, it's more a feeling. I've been getting glimmers of shock and surprise from her for a while now, but this one was pretty intense. I think it's okay, though, I'm pretty sure she'd let me know if she was in danger."

"Still believe in Divination, Weasley? I thought you'd have realized what a scam that is by now."

"Sod off, Malfoy," Ron said, and Harry placed a warning hand on his arm.

Further conversation stopped as the three men heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Before any of them could wonder, the office door flung open and Hermione and Ginny walked in. A second later, Ginny was wrapped in Draco's arms, kissing him as though her very life depended on it.

"I'm going to be sick," Ron muttered, wanting desperately to look away but unable to.

"Shut it, Ron," Hermione sniffed and wiped at her eyes. With a raised eyebrow, she dared Harry to comment again on her romantic side.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked Draco when they came up for air.

"I couldn't stay away any longer, Red," Draco said softly, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I figured it would be easier to come clean to this group first, then to the rest of your family."

"Come clean, Malfoy?" Harry interjected, "you make it sound like you're coming out of the closet."

"In your dreams, Potter," Draco said, meeting Harry's eyes over Ginny's head. The two shared an odd glance, and then Ron interrupted by clearing his throat.

"Where's Mariah?" he asked, glancing down the corridor.

"She's in our apartment, Ron. She's fine," Hermione told him. But Ron obviously wasn't having any of that, and left Harry's office like he'd been shot from a cannon. The others shared a look and followed.

"We definitely have a problem on our hands," Harry broke into the silence once they'd all reunited in Harry and Hermione's apartment, "because now that we know for certain that Draco isn't behind this, we're back to square one."

"You're faith in me is touching, Potter," Draco said with an icy drawl. Ginny tutted.

"Hey," Harry defended himself with mock seriousness, "she said it was a blonde man. Natural mistake."

"Oh yeah," Draco countered, relieved to be sparring with Potter. At least it was something recognizable in a world suddenly turned upside down. "We blondes are a dying breed."

"If you two are quite finished," Hermione interrupted, "we have something rather important to discuss here."

Harry noticed that she was stifling a yawn as she spoke. A quick glance around the room told him she wasn't the only one fighting fatigue. _No wonder,_ he thought, _it's past_ _midnight_.

"Why don't we put that discussion off until morning, love?" Harry walked to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Let's let our brains process what's gone on here tonight and then meet in the morning when we're rested. I don't think anyone is in any immediate danger. And we're perfectly safe within these walls."

Everyone in the room seemed happy with that suggestion, but as Ron and Mariah prepared to return to Hogsmeade, Hermione protested. "Kalena said you should stay here. I think all four of you should."

"Nice as this room is, Hermione, I think that bed would get a little crowded with the six of us on it."

"Lovely mental image, Weasley. You always been this perverted?"

"Bugger off, Malfoy," Ron snarled, and Harry stepped between them once again.

"Hang on, you two. This is Hogwarts. There are rooms enough in this castle to house the entire wizarding world. I believe there are two on this corridor that are empty. Why don't you go settle yourselves in? I'll go to Dumbledore and tell him what's happening."

"Do you have to go now?" Hermione asked once the others had left to settle in for the night.

"Yeah," Harry said, wrapping his arms around her again and kissing her very softly on the lips. Perhaps out of fear, or perhaps out of need, Hermione deepened the kiss at once, trailing her hands up his chest to frame his face. He pulled back slightly and watched as the brown of her eyes seemed to melt under his gaze. "Why don't you settle in to bed and we'll pick this up when I get back?"

"Hurry," Hermione said simply, then kissed him deeply once again to make sure he did.

"You know it," he smiled and walked out of the door before she could try to change his mind again.

He was only a few feet from Dumbledore's office when he felt the hair rise at the back of his neck. His hand had just touched his wand when he heard a feminine voice whisper "Stupefy."

^*^*^*^*^

"So, big brother managed to knock up a witch. I'm impressed," Draco smirked as he pulled off his robes and climbed next to Ginny on the rather musty smelling bed. "All things being equal, my position has improved a bit. At least we got married first."

Ginny said nothing and Draco sighed. "You must really be worried if I can't even get a smile out of you."

"I am, Draco. I still don't understand everything that's going on, but I know Hermione. She was really scared for Mariah…"

"And she doesn't scare easily," Draco finished.

Silence reigned as they curled in to each other. Draco wrapped his arms protectively around Ginny; she snuggled deeper into his embrace. The euphoria of being reunited was ebbing away, leaving bitterness in its wake. Happy as he was to have his wife back, he couldn't quite dismiss their separation. He obviously hadn't moved past the emotional roller coaster the last month had been. And when she spoke, some of those emotions spilled out.

"I missed you," she sighed, feeling complete for the first time in a month.

"Then why did you stay away?" Draco hated the little boy that spoke through him, but couldn't hold the words at bay.

"I told you, I couldn't come home without telling Ron and Harry the truth." Her husband's silence spoke volumes. Ginny felt her anger rising. "Don't you give me the silent treatment, Draco Malfoy. You're the one that wanted to keep this secret. You're the one that refused to come to the Burrow with me because you were afraid of my family's reaction. Merlin's beard, you tried to leave me several times rather than face them. So excuse me for honoring your wishes."

"I'll grant you that, Gin. But it would have been nice if you'd asked me. Given a choice between facing your family and facing a month without you, I'd have Apparated to the Burrow in a heartbeat." Draco paused as anguish overcame his anger. "It's been a month, Ginny. Thirty days you stayed away from me. Do you have any idea how hard it was? When you came to see me that first time and then left fifteen minutes later, I stared at the place you'd been for a long time before I could move. I was positive that you'd left me for good."

Ginny felt the full weight of her cowardice at not standing up to Ron, and it was threatening to overwhelm her. "I'm sorry, Draco. You're right. Once I'd figured it out, once I had proof you weren't behind this whole mess, I should have told Ron everything. I don't know why I didn't."

Draco wasn't sure what he'd been after by lashing out at her, but when he saw the tears filling her brown eyes, he let the past drift away. "It's okay, Red. You acted for my benefit, and I'm being an ungrateful git. I'm still not entirely sure why you put up with me."

"Because you're _my_ ungrateful git," she laughed, hugging him tightly.

"Careful, you're going to swell my head with all this praise."

They laughed together, tentatively at first, then dissolving into fits of giggles. By unspoken agreement, they locked the night's events into a closet and focused on their reunion.

 _Good thing these walls are made of stone_ , Draco thought as he pulled Ginny into a fierce kiss.

^*^*^*^

For Ron and Mariah, the night held no laughter at all. And the silence between them had nothing to do with mental communication. Neither knew exactly what to say. Ron sat with Mariah as she drifted off to sleep. The weight of their growing child made any position uncomfortable for her, so he'd taken to massaging her shoulders until she drifted off.

When her breathing became regular, he gently eased away from her and reached for the quilt at the foot of the bed. His eyes fixed on her bright red toes. Had it really been just a few hours ago that he'd done that? That he'd felt that carefree? Hard to believe.

The window overlooking the grounds was closed, but the curtains were pulled aside. The lake glistened peacefully in the cold night air. The squid made a few ripples in the water and Ron stared at them, transfixed, caught up in his thoughts.

He really wanted to be angry with Ginny. He really wanted to hate Malfoy. But he couldn't. Ron knew raw emotion well enough to recognize it even in his enemy's eyes. How could he hate someone who treated his sister like she was the center of his world? Watching his sister deep kissing Malfoy had been nauseating. But when Malfoy had kissed Ginny on the forehead, it had been…well, he hadn't felt like throwing up.

When it came down to the wire, he just wanted his sister to be happy; and she was happy with Malfoy. Ron knew he'd probably never trust him, but for Ginny, he'd give him a chance.

Mariah whimpered in her sleep. Ron left the window to rejoin her on the bed. He lay on his side and curled his body into the curve of hers, one arm draping over her abdomen to rest on the baby. _It's getting so big_ , he thought in soft wonder at the baby they would be meeting in a matter of weeks. As if in recognition, the baby kicked out towards his hand and Ron soothed the spot.

Mariah hadn't had a chance to tell him everything that had happened, but he'd assumed it wasn't good. All he knew was that his assistant, Lissanne, was really the head of the Diviner Order, that she was gone to God knows where, and that Mariah was even more worried about the baby than she'd been before.

"Ron?" she asked sleepily.

"Right here," he whispered, pressing his lips to the back of her head. "Go back to sleep."

"I can't. There's so much I have to tell you."

"Not tonight, you don't. Ginny filled me in on Lissanne leaving and I owled Rosmerta. She closed up Weasley's for me. Fred's Apparating in tomorrow morning to run the shop for the Hogsmeade weekend. Everything's taken care of."

"Not everything," Mariah sighed and shifted her awkward body until she faced him. "The baby -"

"Will be born in a few weeks," Ron cut her off. "And until then, there's nothing else we need to think about." Acting on impulse, he closed the inches between them and pressed his lips to hers. The feel of her swam across his senses and infused every part of him with churning desire. A desire he couldn't do anything about for at least another month or so.

 _Sorry,_ Mariah thought timidly.

Ron pulled back and found her eyes in the moon lightened room. _Nothing to be sorry for, Mariah._ Then he kissed her again and she returned it with a growing desire of her own. Ron groaned aloud when he felt her hands reach under his shirt to the flat plane of his stomach.

 _Mariah?_ He questioned.

 _Shhh,_ she answered and continued to examine his stomach. When her hand dipped lower, Ron began to wonder if this was what heaven was like.

^*^*^*^

Hermione tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. It wasn't happening. What had begun as a small bulge that made wearing pants uncomfortable had grown to near elephantine proportions making "comfort" a feeling she no longer recognized. And, based on the way Mariah looked these days, it was only going to get worse.

Not that she really minded. Sure, she missed being able to sleep on her stomach, but the little Harry or Hermione growing and kicking within her made every discomfort worth it. She smoothed a hand over the bulge, and then glanced at the clock. What are they talking about? She thought vaguely.

Just as she was about to don her robes to join Harry at Dumbledore's office, the apartment door swung open. She lay quietly, watching him disrobe and move towards the bed. He paused before joining her, which was odd, but then he pulled back the covers and slid underneath them.

Hermione cuddled up to him and felt him stiffen. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Did you talk to Dumbledore?"

"Let's talk about it in the morning, okay, sweetheart? I'm really tired." Without another word, Harry turned on his side.

The last time Harry had fallen asleep like this, without a kiss, with his back to her, they'd been fighting. But this time, they'd parted with a promise of more to come. Could what Dumbledore had said been that upsetting? Was he once again worrying over the future of their child?

Hermione realized that she hadn't had a chance to explain about the Triuna Crudus being a Diviner's child before the night had spiraled out of control. Suddenly, she felt a little better. She'd explain when they awoke and then they could put all fears for their baby aside and concentrate on keeping Ron and Mariah's from harm. Yawning deeply, Hermione turned to Harry, placed a hand on his waist and drifted off to sleep.

^*^*^*^*

He awoke suddenly, as if an electric shock had been passed through his body. He could see clearly, a strange occurrence as he never slept with his glasses on. Then his groggy brain caught up with his eyes and he drew in a sharp breath. He wasn't in his bedroom.

Eyes darting around, he took in as much information as he could. The room was barren, no windows, no furniture besides the chair he was sitting on. He raised his hand to rub the sleep from his eyes. Or at least, he tried to. His hands were bound to the arms of the chair.

Harry felt the first ribbons of panic begin to snake through him. Despite Hermione's claims that he was paranoid, he had prepared for this type of situation. But if his hands were restrained, that plan was about as effective as his first feeble Patronus.

Mind racing in a thousand directions at once, Harry stiffened when the door in front of him opened and a man walked through. He was a tall man, blonde, with an air of…something around him. Determination? Insanity? Anger? Probably all three, Harry decided. Keeping his face as blank as he could, Harry met his eyes and waited.

"Harry Potter, I presume?" the man said conversationally, as if they were meeting at a cocktail party.

"Yes." He wasn't going to give this man more than one word answers.

"Sorry for the discomfort of the chair, but I've heard you're quite a capable wizard and I couldn't risk your escape. I mean you no harm whatsoever, be assured of that, but I must keep you here for the plan to proceed. It won't be for long, just until the baby is born."

The anger surging through him negated everything else. "You stay away from my child," Harry ground out through gritted teeth.

"Your child?" The man actually laughed. "I have no interest in your child whatsoever. Not everything revolves around you, you know."

^*^*^*^

Hermione awoke to the sounds of snoring beside her. _Snoring?_ she thought, _Harry doesn't snore._

Uneasiness spread over her -- an inner sense that something was horribly wrong. She watched him for a few moments, ensuring that he was truly asleep. Once she was certain, she reached a tentative hand over to his and linked their fingers. The wedding bands touched but there was no warmth, and no lightning bolt pattern appeared on them.

This man wasn't Harry.

Rising carefully so as not to wake him, Hermione slipped into her dressing gown and crept silently from the room. She went first to Ron and Mariah and then to Draco and Ginny. She apprised them of her findings and the five of them crept back into the apartment. With the others standing further back, Hermione retrieved her wand from the writing desk and approached the sleeping man.

"Harry?" she prodded his shoulder. He sat up rapidly, blinking sleep from green eyes that held none of Harry's warmth. Those same green eyes widened when he noticed the wand pointed directly at him.

"Hermione?" he asked, clearly puzzled.

"Who are you?" she asked, wand steady and voice quivering, "and what have you done with my husband?"


	8. Chapter 8

Harry rolled his head and shifted as best he could in the uncomfortable chair, grateful that he'd been strapped to a recliner instead of a straight-backed chair. He hadn't yet lost the feeling in his legs because he kept arching and flexing his feet, but he still felt as if his bottom had sprouted roots into the chair's seat.

As the room was completely windowless, he had no idea what time it was, or even what day. Based on the number of meals he'd been fed, though, it had been at least a week. The only thing he knew with any clarity was that he was stuck here, wherever here was; and it was time to start using that to his advantage.

Over the past week, Harry had discovered something about his captor that startled him, although it probably shouldn't have. The man was completely mad, almost maniacally so. Every time his captor visited him, he talked constantly. But it went beyond mere discussion and bordered on boasting. At first, Harry had been too angry and distressed to give the man a proper audience. Now, however, he was resolved to engage him in conversation and keep him talking as long as possible. With any luck, the man's boasting would cause him to divulge his plan or, baring that, the reasons behind it.

Almost as if on cue, the door opened, but it wasn't him. It was her...his blonde helper. The same woman that had given a show at Hogwarts and, presumably, the same one that had attacked Ginny and the other pregnant witches throughout Britain. She'd been coming in at regular intervals to bring him food and drink, but she had yet to speak. Harry kept trying anyway.

"Hello," he croaked out, his throat dry from lack of use.

No answer…not that he really expected one.

"What's your name?" he asked, taking a different tack from his usual questions about his current location.

"Renae," she answered, her voice just above a whisper, eyes meeting his for the first time. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a plea for help in them. He mentally shook his head; he was probably imagining things.

"Renae, can you help me get out of here?" Harry asked, matching her quiet tone.

Renae didn't answer. Instead, she picked up the soup spoon and began offering Harry great spoonfuls of a wonderful chicken concoction. Once he'd finished with his food, Renae stood to leave and he called her back.

"Can you at least bring me my wand? It's got to be here somewhere."

She again remained silent, but she stared at him with an intensity he didn't much care for. Suddenly, her eyes widened and he though he saw a ghost of a smile, but it was gone before he could comment. Renae straightened into an almost military stance when the man opened the door and strode through it. "Has he been fed?" he asked her.

"Yes, Sabastian," she said meekly. She flinched at the scowl he gave her and she very nearly scurried from the room.

"So how are we today?" Sabastian, asked conversationally.

"Right as rain," Harry said, matching his tone as best he could.

Sabastian chuckled with no trace of humor. "Yes, well. Sorry about the poor accommodations. Not a lot I can do about that. Renae says it will only be a matter of days, two weeks at the most until the baby comes, then I will let you go."

Harry felt fury rise within him and fought to keep his face blank. During his first encounter with Sabastian, he'd said he wasn't after their child. If the child he _was_ after would be born that soon, that meant he wasn't concerned with Draco and Ginny's child either since Ginny and Hermione were due at roughly the same time. That left only one option. He must be after Ron and Mariah's. His temper began to boil, blood pumping madly in his veins at the threat directed at his best friend.

"Don't suppose I could get into a more comfortable position, could I?" Harry tried desperately to keep any measure of emotion from his words. If he was going to get any useful information, he would have to keep Sabastian talking. Losing his temper while strapped to a chair would accomplish nothing.

"Sorry." His face smiled, but the gesture didn't reach his eyes. "Afraid I don't quite trust you to not try and get away. It would put quite a damper on my plan if there were _two_ Harry Potters running around Hogwarts. No," he muttered to himself, "can't have that."

Harry puzzled over that strange comment, but as no further information seemed forthcoming, he took another track.

"What exactly is your plan?" Harry asked casually.

"I'm so glad you asked. Renae suits my purpose, but she doesn't get the finer points of a well thought out agenda. The subtlety of it, the little intricacies that tend to go unnoticed by those not properly attuned to the greatness surrounding them."

Harry would have laughed at the man's pomposity, but restrained himself. _So,_ he thought, _we can add delusions of grandeur to mental instability._ "I can see where that would be a bother. Maybe you can answer a question that's been on my mind for a while, though. Was it you that sent me the scroll?"

The dark frown that suddenly altered the smooth face unnerved Harry. The mask of calm covering Sabastian's features disappeared. Now, he could see the face of true insanity beneath it.

"Yes." He said it stiffly and without inflection. "I'm still not entirely sure why the Ministry didn't act on that immediately," Sabastian muttered, stalking around the room like a soldier. "It didn't matter as much as long as I had the woman contained, but that scroll should have ensured that she wouldn't get far if she did escape. The Minister of Magic is supposed to be a very cautious fellow. I was positive that he'd detain all pregnant witches in case a Daemonica was indeed imminent."

Harry was too smart to mention that, as far as he knew, the Minister of Magic hadn't even known of the scroll's existence. Or that if he was informed, he had been told it was in all likelihood a fake.

"But it all turned out as I planned, regardless," Sabastian turned his disarming smile back on Harry. "You're here. He's there. And the baby will be born in a matter of days."

"Who's this 'he' you mentioned?"

"No one of consequence; he's just some poor Muggle that crossed my path at an inopportune time. But to everyone at Hogwarts, he's Harry Potter. Same scar, same eyes. Looks just like you."

Harry felt himself relax slightly. Ever since he'd awoken in this nightmare, he'd been worrying about Hermione. He knew his wife was a strong woman, but he didn't know how his disappearance would affect her or their baby. An imposter taking his place? Would she know it wasn't him? A sick, twisted part of his mind conjured images of her cuddled up with the fake Harry, and he nearly lost the food Renae had fed him. Rationality kicked in and Harry banished the image. Hermione would no more accept an imposter than he would.

"What is so special about this child that you'll go to such lengths?" Harry asked as nonchalantly as he could.

"Don't know much about Diviners, do you?" Sabastian grinned, and Harry shuddered at the evil in the man's eyes.

"Not really," Harry lied.

"Ever since I heard the rumor that a certain Diviner had bonded with a wizard, my plan began to form. And I watched her, followed her movements and waited. Diviner Bonds are powerful things. I knew she wouldn't stay away from him for long…and now my revenge is nearly at hand. I will show them, I will prove to them…"

Harry sat forward as much as he could, but before Sabastian said anything else, the door was pushed open again. Renae was there, holding a tray bearing a bowl and a towel. She kept the tray in front of her and away from Sabastian's eyes. Harry almost gasped aloud when he saw what else was on it. His wand was partially covered by the towel.

"What is it, Renae?"

"I thought I'd clean his wrists. They're a little bloody from the bindings."

Inwardly, Harry scowled at the woman's bad timing. After a second or two, Renae's words sunk in. He wasn't sure exactly what she was talking about as his wrists felt fine. But when he glanced down, he found angry red welts forming painlessly around the ropes that bound him.

^*^*^*^*^*

Hermione sat at her desk, staring at yet another glass jar filled with spiders. It was almost too depressing to repeatedly face the failure of her counterspell, but she had to do something or she'd end up running mad through the castle. Part of her had hoped that with her mind so focused on Harry, she would be able to duplicate what had happened before.

No such luck. If anything, her continued lack of success was depressing her further.

Replacing the jar of spiders on the bookshelf behind her, Hermione's gaze fell on the little Hungarian Horntail figure Harry had been given during the Triwizard Tournament fourth year. A hundred wonderful and terrible images filtered through her head as she ran a finger over the

dragon's back. She vividly remembered the hollow feeling when Harry and Cedric disappeared from the maze. By the time the audience had figured out that the pair of boys was indeed missing, Harry had reappeared at the maze's edge with Cedric clutched tightly to him.

The terror she'd felt in that small lapse of time was nothing when compared to the almost mindless fear she lived with now.

Harry had disappeared exactly a week ago. Just thinking it was almost beyond bearing. But she choked back the tears that threatened as she had for the past seven days. Crying about it would change nothing; it would only make her eyes red and sore.

The imposter that they'd captured had been no help at all. From what they'd been able to find out so far, he was a just an innocent Muggle, placed under Imperius, and somehow smuggled into the castle. It was incredibly frustrating. He knew less than they did. Grand.

A soft knock at her door jolted Hermione out of her thoughts, and she forced a smile to her face. She wasn't sure if it was the situation or the visitor that kept her from smiling fully.

"What is it, Draco?"

"I just wanted to check on you. Professor Dumbledore just told me that the Veritaserum on the Muggle proved fruitless. There's either a very strong memory charm on him, or he never saw who took him."

"So nothing's changed, then," Hermione sighed. "Harry's still missing, no one knows what the bloody hell is going on, and…and…" Suddenly, all her strength seemed to leach out of her, and the tears she'd held at bay spilled out over her lashes.

Draco stared at her for a few seconds before doing the only thing he could think of. He walked over and gathered her into his arms. His heart sank when she stiffened; but then he felt her relax into his arms and he tightened his grasp. Ginny had told him that Hermione needed to cry, and he guessed she was right. Being male, he didn't quite understand why anyone ever _needed_ to cry and he'd told Ginny as much. She'd just scowled and shoved him out of their room.

Tears were soaking through his robe and he desperately wished Ron could have been the one to do this. But Ron had his own problems at the moment. He and Mariah were with Poppy, checking out the rather intense abdominal pains Mariah'd been experiencing.

Once the flood had abated a bit, Draco pulled back and offered her a silk handkerchief from the pocket of his robes.

"Are you sure you want my Mudblood tears soiling this?" she sniffed, only half joking.

"Hermione," Draco drew her name out and fixed her with a stare.

She saw many emotions swirl in the gray depths. The regret surprised her the most. "Sorry," Hermione said quickly, "force of habit." But thinking of why it was a habit brought back so many memories of Harry, Hermione had to choke back another sob.

Trying desperately not to sink into the despair she was just barely keeping back, Hermione changed the subject. "I do have one question, now that we're all friends. Why did you act that way when we were in school, Draco? Why were you so horrible?"

"Would you believe the Imperius curse?"

Hermione arched an eyebrow and waited for him to be serious.

Draco sighed. "It's what was expected of me, Hermione. I was raised to fill a certain role. And I was watched constantly to make sure I fulfilled it. All throughout our school years, the Moron Twins reported my behaviors to their fathers, who then reported to mine."

"I guess I can understand that to a point," she said softly, "but at times it was like you went out of your way to make our lives miserable."

"I did."

Hermione was stunned by the admission. She'd expected a heated denial. "Why?"

"I was jealous."

She was no longer stunned. Hermione Granger, for the first time in her life, was flat out speechless.

Draco lifted a finger and closed her gaping mouth. "For years, I watched the three of you very closely. Harry and I had one main thing in common besides Quidditch. Both of us had two friends that we did everything with. Mine had the combined intellect of a cabbage. His would die to protect him and almost did a few times. I guess it all went back to the day I offered him my friendship and he refused. I had to find some way to make myself believe I was superior to those he had chosen instead. I'm sorry, Hermione, for every prank, spell and insult I laid at your feet."

"What changed?" she asked, leaving his apology unaccepted for the time being.

"My father's death played a major role, but I think it came down to Harry accepting my hand at your…er…"

"You can say it, Draco. It doesn't bother me."

"At your funeral, then. I didn't think that anything would ever make me see Harry with anything less than disdain. But he looked so look lost, Hermione. It touched something in me, warmed me somehow. Then I held my hand out to him, and this time he took it. The next day I left England, determined to find something redeemable about Draco Malfoy. I'm still not sure I found it, but Gin is helping now and that makes all the difference."

Hermione listened while he spoke, and Draco watched the acceptance steal across her face. Whatever she was holding back, whatever doubts she still had were now gone. Draco exhaled a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding.

"I won't ask if Ginny makes you happy, because I can see it in your face when she's around…and vice versa. She positively glows when she's with you. I'm very glad that you found each other."

"Thank you, Hermione." Draco could see the tears welling in her eyes again and opened his arms to her. "We'll find him. He'll come home to you."

This time, there was no hesitation when she stepped into his embrace. And once again, Draco found his shoulder being used as Hermione's handkerchief.

^*^*^*^*^

Harry sat very still as Renae cleaned his "wounds". Sabastian continued to mutter to himself, obviously ruminating over the final stages of his grand plan. The only problem was that he had ceased saying anything coherent.

Harry was trying to meet Renae's eyes, but she kept them focused on her task. When he looked back at his wrists, it was to find them completely free of any welts or blisters. Then he felt something that made his pulse rate jump into triple time. Renae had slipped his wand into the sleeve of his robe.

And if that wasn't enough to make keeping a blank face difficult, when she stood and left the room, Harry noticed that she hadn't tied his hands nearly tight enough to keep them bound. He could easily slip his hands from the bindings and get out of here. But before he did…

"Sabastian," Harry said softly, "can I ask you something?"

The blond man turned around swiftly, a look of confusion on his face. Harry had the impression that he'd forgotten that he, Harry, was even there. Sabastian said nothing, he only nodded.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Revenge."

"Against whom?" Harry pressed.

"All of them. Every last bloody one of them that made my life a living hell as I grew up. Everyone that shunned me, ignored me, and looked at me like I was less than human."

Harry flinched at the fury and madness mingling in the man's eyes before. His mind was in turmoil over what to do now. He could stay a bit longer and press for more information, but then he ran the risk of Sabastian noticing his loosened bindings. After a few moments debate, Harry decided to make his escape and take what he already knew with him.

Once Sabastian resumed his pacing, Harry slipped his left hand from under the ropes. With as much stealth as he could under the circumstances, he removed his wedding ring, placed it on his right ring finger and turned it three times.

He felt the familiar pull from behind his navel and sent a silent thank you to Georg Tambor for the idea of turning the ring into a portkey.

When he appeared in Hermione's office, he stumbled slightly and wondered if he'd ever land straight upright after a journey by portkey. Then his eyes focused on the spectacle in front of him and he shook his head as if to clear the image. Hermione was wrapped around Draco like a boa constrictor.

"Moving in on me already, Malfoy?"

For as long as he lived, he would never forget the faces that greeted that statement. Draco looked like he'd been hit in the stomach with a bludger, and Hermione looked like she'd taken a stunning spell at full strength. After a second or two, though, the shock seemed to wear off, and Hermione ran toward him as fast as her pregnant body would allow. He braced himself for the impact and fastened his arms around her like a vise once she'd reached him.

"You're home? Where have you been? What happened? Are you all right? How did you …"

Harry cut off her seemingly ceaseless litany of questions in the most efficient manner he could think of, fastening his lips to hers with crushing intensity.

It was like fitting the last remaining piece in a puzzle, and his whole being felt the completion. Her sweetness clouded his senses until all he knew was her. As she had from the beginning, she infused his whole body with her essence. His mouth continued to ravage hers as his hands fisted in the bushy brown locks, freeing them from the elastic that bound them at her nape. Her hands were similarly buried in his untidy raven hair as she held him close. Overcome with the lack of her, Harry tried to pull her closer to him, but realized she was already as close as she could be without being inside his skin. Skin. Skin was an excellent idea. His fingers dropped to the fastenings of her robe, hands desperate to touch the silkiness of her skin after such a long absence. Hermione seemed to find the idea appealing and the pair had a giggled battle over who got to undress whom first.

"Er," Draco said uncomfortably, and then cleared his throat a little too loud. Both vocalizations were ignored. "I'll just be going then," he said to no one in particular and crossed to the office door. As he shut the door behind him, Draco knew he should inform Ginny, Ron and Mariah that Harry had returned. He winced at the mental image of those three bursting in on Harry and Hermione.

Perhaps, he thought with a grin, he'd go down and visit Severus first for a nice long chat.

 _Now_ you _owe_ me _one, Potter_ , Draco thought as he whistled his way towards the dungeons.

^*^*^*^

"Mariah?" Ron whispered, not wanting to wake her if she was still asleep.

"I'm awake," she grinned, and grunted as she shifted in the bed to face him. "Getting damn tired of this bed, but I'm awake."

Ron joined her, stretching out on the bed and clasping her hand in his. "Did you sleep at all?" They had been up for most of the night in the hospital wing, and Ron had done his best to convince Mariah to catch up on the sleep she'd missed. Even though Poppy had told them again that morning that the pains she was experiencing were perfectly normal, something all expectant mothers went through, both were still worried. Poppy said that was normal too, a grin splitting her normally dour face.

They only believed her when the pains ceased a few hours later. And Ron swore if she told him _that_ was normal, he was going to hit something.

"A little. Junior here keeps playing football with my bladder, though. Makes sleep difficult when you're getting up every fifteen minutes."

"Listen up, you," Ron said to her bulging stomach, "you'd better knock that off and let your mum sleep."

Mariah giggled as she always did when Ron talked to the baby; a good thing, as that was Ron's intention. Ever since his assistant had revealed herself as the head Diviner and Harry had disappeared, there had been scant few happy feelings. And he hated to see Mariah so overcome with worry.

"I'm sorry about all this, Ron," Mariah said softly, turning serious again, but Ron refused to let her continue.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, love." Ron squeezed her hand tightly and tried to convince her with his eyes. "Granted, I never expected to be the father of a child with the ability to do me grievous bodily harm with just a thought. Might make adolescence a trial, that." He shot her a wry grin, but she didn't reciprocate.

"Are you ever going to be serious about this?" Mariah blew out an exasperated breath.

"Serious about what? The baby?" At her nod, Ron sat up and faced her, taking both of her hands in his. "Hagrid said something years ago that still makes sense today, Mariah. What's coming will come, and we'll meet it when it does."

"Isn't that a little defeatist?"

"Maybe. But while we can plan for what could happen, I refuse to let it take away from the more joyous aspects of what is coming. In a just a few days, give or take, we will get to see our baby, Mariah. Diviner or not, Triuna or not, it doesn't matter. He or she will be a little of you, a little of me and loved by both of us." Ron paused and took in a deep breath. Gathering his courage, he plunged on. "Actually, since you're up, there's something I wanted to ask you."

Mariah didn't trust herself to speak. Women the world over, both Muggle and witch, couldn't help the racing of their pulse at that phrase. Mariah knew that it couldn't be what she wanted him to ask, but that didn't stop her from wishing it was.

"What do you think of the last name Weasley?"

She nearly choked. Was he…? Could he…? She took as deep a breath as she could without him noticing and answered in a surprisingly even voice, "I like it. And those that carry it."

Ron grinned again, looking a little less anxious than he had a moment before. "Any chance you'd want to add it to yours? Officially, I mean?"

There was something in him that Mariah couldn't breach. Over the past few months, he'd become quite adept at shielding things from her. For the most part, she couldn't read his thoughts directly anymore unless he was upset or otherwise occupied mentally. But the shields he used right now were stronger than any she'd experienced thus far, and that hurt a little. If he was asking this out of love, or any other affection, he wouldn't shield her.

"You don't have to do this, Ron. We're already Bonded. Most Bonds consider that binding enough without adding marriage into the mix. I know my father did. I know your sense of honor demands that you make an honest woman of me, to use a trite Muggle expression, but it's not necessary."

Suddenly, all mental shields dropped, and Mariah nearly gasped at the wave of anger that radiated from him. Almost as if he couldn't contain the anger while sitting, Ron rose from the bed and began to stalk around the room.

"You think I asked you out of a sense of decency? What kind of a prat do you think I am? I've told you over and over about my parents, and the love that has seen them through seven children, two wars and over thirty years. Do you honestly think I'd settle for anything less? And as far as I'm concerned, the Bond means we're attached magically. A marriage means something entirely different."

Mariah no longer trusted her voice. In his outburst, she'd seen the truth in his words and in his mind. She decided that was the best place to answer him. _What are you saying?_

Ron whipped around to face her. _I'm trying to tell you that I love you and want to marry you, damn it._ His anger ebbed away when he saw her smile and the tears pooling in her bright blue eyes. _Bloody romantic, that, wasn't it?_

 __

 _Oh, definitely. Care to try again?_

Mariah's pulse jumped into triple time as Ron returned to her side and took her hands once again. "I love you, Mariah Jamison. And I've discovered over the past few months that I was only half alive until you stumbled into my life with that message about Hermione. You've brought me joy and anger, and worry, and love and every other emotion known to man and wizard alike. Please marry me so that I can feel this complete for the rest of my life."

Mariah didn't answer at first, but pulled him towards her and ran her fingers through the fiery locks, bringing her hands to a halt when they cupped his face. "Yes."

Joy spread and radiated from them almost to the point of making the mouse in the wall giddy with it. Ron brought his hands to her face and placed his lips delicately on hers. Mariah had other ideas, however, and deepened the kiss immediately. Her hands shifted to the nape of his neck, pulling him down to lie next to her. As their tongues danced, their hands roved and clothing became much too constricting. Once divested of the offending garments, they began a more thorough investigation of each other. Then a knock startled them both.

Ron leapt from the bed, hurriedly donned his robes and opened the door a crack to shield Mariah from whoever was there. He nearly groaned when he realized who it was.

"Sod off, Malfoy."

"You know, I'm actually considering changing my name to Sodoff Malfoy. It would probably make your life a lot easier, Weasley." Draco's eyebrow arched and a grin broke over his face. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"Why do you ask?" Ron asked warily.

"Well, it's either that or you've developed an affinity for women's clothing."

Ron glanced down and bit back an oath. In his haste, he'd grabbed Mariah's bright magenta robes rather than his usual blue. He didn't mind being caught in her robes as much as he minded who caught him.

He'd just opened his mouth to utter a scathing epithet when Mariah appeared at his side, dressed and looking completely unfazed.

"Back to your corners, you two," she laughed, and then turned to Draco. "Has something happened?"

"Just thought you'd want to know that Harry's back," he said casually, like he was announcing that it was going to rain later.

"What? When?"

"About an hour ago."

"And you're just now telling us?"

"Yeah, Weasley. I thought he and Hermione deserved a little privacy for their reunion, especially considering that they were nearly shagging right in front of me."

Ron couldn't help it. He grinned stupidly at Malfoy and the two shared a rare moment of camaraderie. "Have they finished - er-- reuniting?" Ron asked, and was rewarded with a slap on the arm from Mariah.

"Yeah, just. Got to admire the guy's stamina," Malfoy quipped and Mariah favored him with the same slap to the arm.

She pushed past both of them and muttered what sounded like "Men".

^*^*^*^*^

Sabastian was in a rage. And not his usual I'll-show-them rage, Renae thought as she healed the various bruises and marks he'd left on her. This time, it seemed his anger had no real defining point. He was angry with her, angry that his plan was falling apart...

It hadn't taken long for him to realize that she had allowed Harry to escape, but at least he didn't know she'd facilitated it. All it had taken was one little peek into his past, one glimmer of the ring maker talking about portkeys, and she'd known to make sure his hands were free. And Sabastian merely thought that her ineptitude at retying his bonds had been the cause. The one bright spot of her whole horrible situation was that he didn't think much of her mental abilities. Not that she'd ever tried to convince him otherwise.

And now, more than ever, she needed him to believe that she wasn't too bright. Otherwise, she had no hope of saving the child its horrible fate at Sabastian's hand once it was born.

At first, their Bond had been blissful. She knew he had problems, deep seated emotional hang-ups about Diviners as a whole from his horrible excuse for a mother. Shunned by her almost from infancy because he was born male and therefore not a Diviner himself, he'd grown to hate everything about the Order. It didn't matter to Allison that her son had been born a wizard, she'd wanted a Diviner daughter and anything else wasn't worthy of her attention.

But then they'd met, had fallen in love, and their Bond had formed. For a while, Renae had thought that she was breaking through his prejudices and bad feelings. And then the madness had started to creep in. It was very subtle at first, random comments and irrational outbursts. The final plunge into insanity had happened almost overnight…when he'd found out that Mariah had Bonded with a wizard.

Finished with her wounds, Renae paced the confines of the cell she'd once called a room. And it was a cell this place she spent the days of her imprisonment until her jailer called for her. Luckily, he didn't call for her much anymore, outside of the occasional tasks he needed her to handle. Like delivering the scroll, or terrorizing pregnant witches.

Renae felt herself nearly engulfed with self-loathing. Why had she done it? Any of it? She must be the weakest woman in the world to have gone against every principle she had for Sabastian. And she became weaker still when she hoped that he would snap out of his haze of insanity and return to the man he had been before vengeance became his only passion.

She wished she could do more for Mariah. They'd been friends once upon a time. But one of the first things he'd done when he found her wandering London all those months ago was to place a memory charm on her so she wouldn't remember. And now, Mariah didn't remember a lot of things -- like their friendship, or her relationship to Sabastian.

The urge to contact Kalena came over her again as she heard the unmistakable sounds of Sabastian's temper tantrum in the room down the hall. Glass shattering, books hitting the walls, furniture splintering under the power of his rage. But contacting Kalena was out of the question now. She'd gone too far, done too much to further his vengeance to expect help from that quarter.

Once Harry had left the castle, Renae had chanced a look into his future by stroking the lock of hair she'd snipped from him during her little time-turner jaunt into the past. That lock, while invaluable in seeing his past, didn't help much with seeing his future. A fact she'd tried to explain to Sabastian numerous times, only to have it fall on deaf ears. Precognition was not an exact thing - there were too many variables to see a clear picture of the future. She prayed that Harry was smart enough to put the pieces in their proper places and stop Sabastian. Because if he didn't…if he couldn't…Renae shuddered at the thought.

Sabastian bellowed for her and Renae slowly made her way down the hall towards him, thinking that maybe this time she'd see a glimmer of the man he used to be.

^*^*^*^*

The reunion in the staff common room was a boisterous affair at first. Dumbledore had alerted all the staff to Harry's return, and they had flocked to the room to welcome him back. Even Snape, which surprised everyone. They watched Snape cross to him, say a few words and then sweep from the room with his usual dramatic flair.

"I meant to ask you how those two coexist as teachers here," Draco muttered to Hermione.

"They mutually ignore each other. I think that's the first time they've spoken to one another since Harry first joined the staff," Hermione giggled.

After the parade of staff members abated, Dumbledore closed the door and locked it. The room became eerily quiet as the five former students and Mariah stared at the Headmaster.

His gaze focused on Mariah, Hermione and Ginny and then a smile lit his face, blue eyes twinkling behind the half moon spectacles. "Well," he said with barely concealed mirth, "trust you lot to do everything together, even when starting your families."

That comment seemed to break the tension and everyone gave a hearty chuckle. Draco and Ginny were standing next to the fireplace, his arms wrapped around her. Ron and Mariah were on the room's only couch together, Ron shooting steely glances at Draco when he thought no one would notice. Of course, everyone did. Once the other teachers had left, Harry and Hermione had moved to a love seat and sat together, Hermione curled into his side as if afraid to lose direct physical contact with him.

"Now then. Harry? What can you tell us about your confinement?" Dumbledore asked, moving to stand in front of the cold fireplace and face the six of them.

"Not much, Headmaster. Most of what I heard was the ravings of a madman, but I've been able to piece together a bit of this man's plan, I think. He's after revenge, that much was abundantly clear. But revenge against who, he didn't tell me. I know he's been orchestrating the attacks on pregnant women in order to get them to Hogwarts. Those attacks were a ruse. He's really after Ron and Mariah's child."

Harry had told them privately before they had left the staff tower for the common room, not wanting them to hear this news surrounded by an audience. He'd been a little surprised over their reaction -- or lack of one - until they told him that they'd known before he disappeared.

"The imposter that was sent here was to remain until the baby's birth, at which time he was apparently supposed to somehow take the baby and bring it to Sabastian."

Harry raised his hand to run it through his hair, feeling bad that there was no more he could tell them after a week in captivity. Part of him wished he'd stayed longer, tried to glean more information, but the risk of discovery had been too great. Hermione shifted and cuddled closer to him on the couch they shared. Even though he hadn't found out much, he was very glad to be back.

"Harry?" Hermione sat up straighter and grabbed his arm. "What's this?"

"What's what, love?" Harry looked to where she was pointing and his mouth fell open as he saw what had drawn her attention.

"Headmaster?"

All eyes focused on Harry when he spoke up. He pulled back the sleeve of his robe to show everyone what Hermione had discovered. There were a series of numbers scratched into his forearm; the order of them seemed to indicate a date. But the date in question meant nothing to him. It was just one in a long list of days he'd spent drunk.

"Does this date stand out to anyone here?" Dumbledore asked. Everyone shook their heads.

"Well, it means something to someone, or it wouldn't have been placed there," Draco commented.

"Brilliant deduction, Malfoy," Ron quipped, and Draco merely smiled in return.

"So how do we figure out what it means?" Hermione asked in a rather loud voice to quell the verbal sparring between Ron and Draco before it began.

"A pensieve, Headmaster?" Harry asked Dumbledore.

"I was just thinking the same thing, Harry." Dumbledore crossed to the cabinets along the back wall, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. It was a large pan, like one would use to bake a sheet cake. "I think this will be big enough."

Harry moved to take his wand from his robes, but Dumbledore stopped him. "I don't think we should use your memories, Harry. This date coincides with a time you weren't exactly in your right mind. Perhaps Ron's would be, how shall I say it, clearer?"

"I don't have the best memory, Headmaster," Ron said, ears going a bit pink.

"I can help with that," Mariah said, shifting on the couch to face him. "I think I can get deep enough into your mind to help you focus on that one date in particular."

"Now that's a scary thought," Draco said with a grin. "Don't know that I'd want to go too deeply into your gray matter, Weasley. Might scar me for life."

"Sod off, Malfoy," said Harry, Hermione, Mariah and Ron simultaneously. Ginny joined in, but said Draco instead. To Harry's great surprise, Ron and Draco's eyes met and the two seemed to laugh together over something. Would wonders never cease?

Dumbledore took a few moments to place the tray on the table in front of Ron while Mariah placed her fingers to Ron's temples. After a few minutes more, she nodded to Dumbledore. He pointed his wand tip to Ron's temple and extracted the thought -- a silver white strand -- and laced it onto the tray. Once that was completed, he prodded the thought with his wand.

"I think we'd all better have a look. The more eyes we have, the better our chances of not missing anything," he told them, and every one of them crowded around the small table, Ginny, Hermione and Mariah having the most difficulty, given their swollen stomachs.

At his instruction, they all leaned forward and placed their noses into the pensieve containing Ron's memory. Draco was blessedly silent about it.

 __

 _Three years earlier, in the Three Broomsticks_

Ron pushed open the doors to the Three Broomsticks and scanned the various patrons, looking for Harry. Sure enough, there he was. The Boy Who Lived was slumped over a table, snoring. Shaking his head in both disgust and resignation, Ron walked over to him and prodded his shoulder.

"Come on, mate. Time to get up, go home and sleep it off."

Harry only grunted and swatted at Ron. He missed by a good two feet; either because his glasses had slipped from his face or because he had once again put away the better part of a bottle of Ogden's.

Ron could tell the moment that Harry's befuddled brain realized who was next to him, his eyes widened and a sloppy grin split his face.

"Ron," he slurred. "Come and have a drink."

"No thanks, Harry. It's time for you to come back to the flat so you can pass out in private."

"You're a real prat, you know that?" Harry said with all the maturity of a two year old denied a toy.

"Funny, I told myself the same thing on the way over here to collect you. Next time, I might just tell Rosmerta to heave your sorry arse out into the street."

Harry laughed stupidly, but the part of his brain that hadn't been pickled realized that Ron was getting close to leaving without him. Mustering all his concentration, Harry heaved himself to his feet and clung to Ron's shoulders as they made their way out of the bar.

"Why are you doing this to yourself, Harry? I mean, I miss her too, but life does go on."

"Not for me. I can't, Ron," Harry said with more lucidity than Ron had heard from him in years. "I caused her death. She was the one person in this whole world, besides you, that I ever loved. And my love killed her."

"You don't really believe that?" Ron asked, shocked. He'd known Harry's feelings for Hermione since the end of sixth year, but he'd never known the depth to which Harry blamed himself for her death.

"In vino veritas, Ron," Harry lost his grip on reality and began to cackle with laughter. "There's truth in wine, or something. Doesn't make much sense as I was drinking whiskey. Who said that, by the way?"

"I dunno, Harry. Probably some drunk Greek bloke," Ron struggled to keep Harry upright since he kept lurching awkwardly.

"Roman, Ron. Romans spoke Latin." Harry paused as he righted himself from a drunken lunge that plowed him into a woman walking the opposite direction down the High Street. "Mione'd know. She knew everything, didn't she?" Harry's eyes leaked a river of tears as he put his free hand to the back of his neck.

"Yep, she sure did." Ron agreed, beginning to feel a little emotional himself.

"Not everything. Couldn't tell her about the graveyard. Never, never. Tried to tell her I loved her, too. She didn't want to hear it."

"I know, Harry. But she knows now."

Harry stopped walking and looked as far up into the night sky as he could without falling over. "Y'think so? Do y'think she found my parents up there, Ron? Y'think she's with my mum and dad?"

Ron couldn't speak through the tears.

With a loud, booming voice, Dumbledore touched the observer Harry on the shoulder and one by one they left the pensieve and returned to the staff common room.

Not one person in the room, not even Draco Malfoy, had dry eyes. Sniffles and soft sobs filled the room as everyone composed themselves. Hermione had buried her face in Harry's shoulder and his cheek rested on the top of her head. Ron seemed the least affected, probably because he'd already lived that scene. It also made him more observant.

"I did notice something," Ron said quietly as the crying ebbed into silence. "The woman that you bumped into, Harry. She was tall and blonde, and she grabbed at the back of your head when you bumped into each other."

"And she walked away with a clump of your hair," Mariah said.

That statement dried the tears faster than a hot air blower. "But why take his hair?" Ginny asked, clearing her cheeks of the lingering wetness.

"Voodoo doll?" guessed Draco, only half joking. He'd seen way too much island magic in the Caribbean to discount anything, no matter how odd it seemed.

"No," Mariah said, and she had a funny look on her face. "To see into Harry's past…and his future. Since she's not Bonded to him, she'd need something of his to touch in order to get a clear impression." Her face seemed to focus on something vague. "Did she seem familiar to anyone else?"

"Yes," Hermione, Harry, Ginny and Dumbledore answered at the same time.

"That was the woman that showed up at Hogwarts," Hermione said, looking uneasily at Ginny.

"And it was the woman that tried to kidnap me," Ginny confirmed, trying to draw Draco's arms even tighter around her as he placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

Before anyone had a chance to comment, the door opened and Kalena walked in. Stunned silence greeted her, not because of her entrance as much as whom she entered with. Beside her were a laughing, unbespectacled Sybill Trelawney and a tall and rather surly looking blonde woman of about the same age as Kalena.

The only sound that broke the silence was Mariah's voice.

"Hello, Mother."


	9. Chapter 9

"Hello, Mother."

Those two simple words elicited several different reactions. Mariah simply sighed, her voice tinged with both resignation and dread. Several of the room's occupants gasped. Ron leapt to his feet like his arse had been set on fire, which made Ginny giggle slightly.

"Mrs. Jamison," Ron said, his voice so squeaky that Draco had to muffle the giggles he now shared with his wife.

The witch in question, however, was not impressed. She looked down her aquiline nose at Ron with an air of annoyance. "My name," she said imperiously, "is Allison Leyah. Jamison is Mariah's father's last name."

Ron was fairly sure he'd never used that much contempt in his voice, even when talking about Malfoy. Duly chastised, Ron sat back down. He knew his face was burning with irritation and embarrassment, and was relieved when Mariah's mother turned her attention away from him.

"How are you, love?" she asked her daughter, kneeling beside the couch where Mariah lay and placing her hands on the swell of the growing baby. Mariah flinched at her mother's touch.

"I'm fine, Mother. Why are you here?"

"Where else would I be? My baby's about to become a mother," Allison cooed.

 _Mariah?_ Ron asked, a little uneasy with the tension radiating from his fiancée. _What is it?_

 __

 _This is more affection than she's shown me in the past fifteen years, Ron. She only acts like this when she wants something._

"She's here," Kalena announced in a commanding voice, "to fix the mess she's made."

"No, she's not," Allison replied, her hands and eyes still fixed on Mariah. "I told you Kalena, I would do nothing different."

"Would someone kindly explain what is going on?" Dumbledore interrupted.

"Nothing that concerns you," Allison answered contemptuously.

Dumbledore looked shocked. Harry knew Dumbledore wasn't used to being addressed as though he was a blast ended skrewt that had found its way into the house. His feelings about Mariah's mother dropped another notch. That placed her just above mountain trolls.

"Mother," Mariah said sharply, rising awkwardly to her feet. "I'd like to speak to you alone. Now."

Ron caught Mariah's eyes as she reached the common room door. _Will you be all right?_

 __

 _I'll be fine, Ron. And, by the way, I forgot to say something earlier._

Allison passed by her daughter on their way out of the room, but Mariah kept Ron's attention.

 __

 _What's that?_

 _I love you, too._

His answering grin lit up his whole face. He knew then, despite the bad feeling he'd gotten about his future mother in law, that everything was okay with her. With them.

"Well, that was refreshing," Dumbledore said once the door had closed. "I haven't been put in my place that effectively since I attended school here."

Dumbledore's words eased some of the tension that Allison Leyah had left in her wake. The trip through the pensieve temporarily forgotten, everyone in the room focused on Kalena and Sybill Trelawney. Ron and Harry, who had taken Divination straight through to their seventh years, were astonished by the change in their former teacher's appearance.

"Kalena, if I may," Trelawney said, her voice lacking its normal syrupy quality. She walked with fluid grace towards the couch Mariah had vacated.

"There has been a lot more speculation towards the Diviner Order this year than I have seen in my whole life. And, although it may surprise some of you," she looked briefly at Hermione, Harry and Ron, "I am a member of that Order. My skills are extremely limited, only occasional flashes, but I am still a Diviner. Many years ago, when my mother died, I came back to my father's native Britain. When Professor Dumbledore offered the Divination position to me, I jumped at the chance. And here I have remained ever since."

"Excuse me, Sybill," Harry interjected, "but you told us during seventh year that Diviners were simply a group of telepathic witches."

"Precisely, Harry," she smiled at him, "how better to ensure the secrecy of the Order? And as for the rather unorthodox impression I give, well…let's just say it's a role I've enjoyed playing for years. But when Renae showed up and began the questioning about the Triuna Crudus. I knew then that the time had come for batty Professor Trelawney to be shelved for a while."

"She contacted me directly," Kalena took up the narrative, "and we began work immediately, trying to pinpoint the location of the man behind the attacks and the woman helping him, Renae."

"You know who she is?" Ginny asked, still harboring a bit of ill will towards the woman and her attempted kidnapping.

"Yes. She's an American Diviner who followed a man here when he left our country. A man named Sabastian."

"Harry already told us his name," Hermione said, her well known aversion to the practice of Divination showing.

After Harry had filled the other women in on his imprisonment and their trip into the pensieve, Hermione was nearly twitching with unanswered questions. "But all this leads me to a number of questions. If I may, Sybill?"

"Please, Hermione," Trelawney smiled.

"If some of you are precognitive, why is this coming as such a big shock? Why can't you just look into Mariah's future, or this Renae's, and find your answers?"

"It doesn't work that way, Hermione," Kalena answered. "For example, I can't touch your shoulder and tell whether the child you carry is male or a female. All I can do is look into your future, take any images of children and then estimate…"

"You mean guess," Hermione sniffed.

"Yes, guess. Your own experience with Divination should be example enough of the imprecision of our precognitive gifts," Sybill sniffed back, affronted at the attack on her sisterhood. Hermione's arrogance faded a bit at the memory of the pain her wrong guess had caused.

Since her best friend was out of the room, Hermione decided to ask the question that had been haunting her. "Is Mariah carrying the Triuna Crudus?"

The room fell eerily silent, and everyone began casting their eyes between both Sybill and Kalena.

"The thing is, Hermione, we just don't know." Kalena arched a brow at her, and the younger woman closed her mouth. "Believe me, I wish we did, but we won't know for sure until the baby is born. I've spoken to several Knowers, some of the most powerful alive, and they all sense that something is happening. Something not good. And it does indeed involve a Triuna. You see, there are many possible futures, depending on the actions taken and decisions made in our present.

"The only thing I've heard that has bearing is that Allison's name has been connected to it. That's part of the reason she's here."

"Part…" Harry began, but stopped at the verbal explosion across the hall.

"How dare you!"

The room as a whole jumped at the shout. Allison's voice reverberated down the corridor and into every room along it. Ron had just risen to his feet when Mariah came walking serenely back into the staff room and resumed her seat next to him.

"Mariah?" Hermione asked, concern furrowing her brow.

"Mom wasn't too happy to hear our news," she told Ron, lacing her fingers with his. She smiled into his worried eyes and they all waited while the pair shared a private conversation about something. After a few moments, Ron nodded and grinned as Mariah broke the news. "Ron asked me to marry him earlier this evening and I accepted."

The silence that greeted her pronouncement was almost identical to the one following her mother's entrance, but had quite a different reaction. The room became a flurry of congratulations, handshakes and cheek kisses. All mention of future events was suddenly shelved in favor of an impromptu engagement party.

^*^*^*^

It wasn't until much later that Ron and Mariah were able to talk privately, or at least, without a room full of people watching them as they sent thoughts back and forth. Ron had hoped to garner more information about hermother. Mariah, however, seemed more interested in his.

"Ron, what exactly was your plan? I mean, you were planning on telling her about us, weren't you?"

"Of course I was, but just…later."

Mariah smiled. She had heard so many stories of Molly Weasley from Ron and Ginny, as well as from Harry and Hermione, that she knew why Ron was hesitating. They'd passed the "I've been really busy, Mum, but…" time frame about two months ago. Now the baby was due in a matter of days, and they were talking about getting married. Mariah had no idea how real mothers felt, but she was fairly sure that the sooner they informed Molly Weasley, the better.

"I'd say were about as close to later as we can get," she grimaced as the baby within her gave a mighty kick against her hand.

"Well, it's not just us, you know. We have Ginny to consider," Ron said, obviously grasping at any excuse to avoid his mother's wrath.

"Which is why I spoke to her before bringing it up. She and Draco are both ready to reveal their marriage to the rest of your family. Face it, Ron, you're scared."

"A fact I don't deny, angel." His mouth gave the familiar side smirk she'd grown to love almost as much as the name he used for her in private. She opened her mouth, then felt something strange and promptly closed it again.

"All right. I'll owl her tonight if it's that important to you," Ron said on a sigh, misinterpreting her expression. Then he felt it - a wave of intense pain radiating from Mariah.

"What?" He was at her side in a flash.

Mariah struggled to stand and was rewarded with a gush of water that splashed the floor.

"You'd better make that an express owl, or send someone to them."

"You mean?"

 _I mean, Ron, that we're about to meet our baby._ She had to think the statement at him; the pain in her back and midsection was too intense for her to form words.

The news of Mariah's labor spread through the castle faster than Snape took points from Gryffindor. She hadn't been in labor an hour when the corridor outside the Hospital Wing was filled with students and faculty. When it became clear that none of them were going to leave voluntarily, Dumbledore decided to let the prefects stay so they could inform their houses after the blessed event.

It was the first time in anyone's memory that a baby was being delivered at Hogwarts, and the whole school became rapidly caught up in the event. No one, however, knew the further import of the birth save the four standing closest to the door.

Kalena, Allison and Sybill Trelawney had been summarily dismissed from the corridor. Kalena and Sybill took this with grace, knowing that their presence would keep everyone's mind too firmly on what the baby's birth _could_ mean. Allison had to be physically restrained by Draco, not leaving until Hermione had told her point blank that Mariah didn't want her there.

Harry had been sent via Floo Powder to collect the Weasleys.

As her labor progressed, Hermione and Ginny listened to every grunt, groan and scream with faces going steadily greener. Every time they heard a sound from the other side of the heavy oak door, they promised themselves that when the time came, it was pain blocking spells all the way.

Later, Hermione would wonder which sound was more painful - Mariah's final scream of labor or Molly Weasley's bellow the moment she hit the corridor.

"Ginny?" she asked, and then followed with, "Ron?"

Harry and Arthur were about ten steps behind, either unwilling or unable to match the stride of the Weasley matriarch. Harry was obviously trying to fill Arthur in on as much as he could of the past few months. It was clear from Molly's words that he hadn't gotten far.

"What were they thinking? My two youngest are expecting children of their own and not a single owl to let me know. Neither of them comes to see me or introduces me to their partners. Nothing. Am I such a monster? Was I such a bad mother? It's not like I'd interfere, is it Arthur? But with everyone so spread out I feel very out of touch to begin with. It breaks my heart. Ginny? Ron?"

"Hello, Molly," Hermione smiled, stepping forward to embrace her. "You're just in time. I think Mariah just had the baby."

The door swung open a moment later and Poppy walked out to greet the assembled family members, a red, wrinkled, screaming bundle in her arms. "This one wants her mum back, but they insisted I bring her out to meet all of you."

"Is everything okay, Poppy?" Molly asked, her voice thickening with sudden tears as she peered into the blankets at her granddaughter.

"Baby and mum are just fine. Dad should be coming around any moment now."

"Coming around?" Harry asked.

"Well, young Mr. Weasley got a bit frantic during the more intense periods of labor. Actually, it was quite interesting. Ms. Jamison looked at him, told him to sit down and be quiet. And he did just that. In all my time as a midwitch, that's a new one."

Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Draco shared a discreet smile. Although for Harry and Draco, it was a little more like a grimace. Every one of them knew that Mariah had used her Persuader gift on Ron.

"Can we go in?" Hermione asked.

"Not just yet. I'd like to give the three of them some time alone. I know I'd get nowhere asking you all to come back tomorrow…" Every head nodded in unison. "So I will settle for two hours. Entertain yourselves elsewhere for that time period, and I will allow you in to see them then." Her words brooked no argument; neither did the door slamming in their faces.

Molly, apparently content that all was well with one half of the problem, turned sharply to the other. Even the blind could have sensed Molly's instant and unfavorable reaction to the man standing beside Ginny.

"As for you, young lady," she said to Ginny, "what can you possibly say to explain yourself?" Arthur's face went from smiling to sneering in the blink of an eye as he fixed Draco with a stare that should have stopped his heart beating.

To Harry, it looked as if Draco was going to step forward and take the heat. But Ginny restrained him with a slight touch on the arm.

"Mum, maybe we should go back to our room and talk. Privately."

Molly pursed her lips, nodded once and turned back down the hallway. Draco took Ginny's hand and took a step forward. Arthur stopped him with another glare.

"This is for family, if you don't mind." Then he grabbed his daughter's arm and propelled her down the hall.

Harry restrained Draco this time, and he had to dig his fingers into the other man's arm to keep him from following. "I'm her family, too," he said in an almost lost voice.

"I know, Draco," Harry said quietly. "And she'll tell them that. Just give her time with her parents." He glanced at Hermione and winked. "I say we nip off to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer in honor of the newest Weasley."

"Now there's a bloody horrid thought, Potter," Draco quipped and Harry was relieved to see even the ghost of his familiar smirk.

^*^*^*^

Inside the hospital wing, a reverent silence had replaced the grunting and screaming that heralded the baby's arrival. The new parents sat side by side on the hospital bed, the baby lying between them. They'd unwrapped the blankets, counted fingers and toes, then rewrapped her.

"She's beautiful, Mariah," Ron whispered.

"She's red, wrinkled and squashed-looking, Ron," Mariah countered with a sleepy smile. "But give her some time and I think she will be. How can she help it? She looks just like you, red hair and all."

"And here I was thinking she looked just like you," Ron added, kissing her softly on the forehead.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she began, barely staving off her growing fatigue.

"You mean zapping me?" he grinned.

"Well, that's not the way I'd phrase it, but yes. It was either that or Poppy would've stunned you."

"She wouldn't have."

"She had her wand out, Ron. You were so adorable," she grinned, her eyes closing. Before Ron could respond she was fast asleep. He kissed her forehead once again, gingerly picked up his daughter and conjured a blanket for Mariah before leaving the bed.

"Adorable, she says," Ron told his daughter as he moved over to the next bed and lay down, cradling the baby in his arms. "I was scared out of my wits, feeling every scream as though it was tearing me in two and she thinks I was adorable. Rianne, I think your mum's a bit mental."

Rianne Weasley chose that moment to open her swollen eyes. Ron didn't think he'd ever been scrutinized as thoroughly as he was by his new daughter. In awe over what they had created, he raised a finger to trace the downy skin.

He didn't know what this little girl's future held, but he supposed that was a feeling shared by all new parents throughout the world, magical or not. All he knew in that moment was that he would gladly lay down his own life for hers and would hunt down anyone that hurt her. Six months ago he would have never believed the joy and contentment he was feeling now was possible.

He glanced to the left and saw that Mariah was still sleeping. Barely stifiling a yawn of his own, Ron thought that sleep didn't sound like such a bad idea. He placed Rianne on his shoulder, wrapped his arms securely around her, stole one last glance at his fiancée and closed his eyes. "I love you, Mariah."

In that place between awake and asleep, Mariah smiled.

^*^*^*^*

"Now then," Molly said in a deceptively calm voice. "You have two minutes. Start talking."

Defiantly, Ginny kept her lips firmly sealed and glared at her mother.

For two minutes, there wasn't a sound in the room, save the deep breathing of three people fighting to keep their tempers.

When the explosion came, it came from all sides. Molly, Arthur and Ginny began shouting at the same time, which was a good thing as no one was able to distinguish the words. The meanings came through clear enough, though.

"Did you hear me?" Molly asked her daughter, her voice returning to a more normal level.

"Mum, I think the Giant Squid heard you. As for me, I didn't catch the words, only the meaning behind them."

"I am so stunned that you'd act this way…be this deceptive," Molly said, sadness replacing the anger.

"And get involved with a Malfoy, of all people. Whatever happened to Iain? I thought you two were getting close to announcing an engagement," Arthur asked hopefully, as if bringing up the other man's name would snap Ginny out of whatever spell Malfoy had cast.

"Arthur," Molly interjected. "Can we handle one side of the issue before we tackle the other?"

Arthur looked sullen, but he nodded.

"Mum," Ginny began, walking over to the window seat. Molly joined her but Arthur remained standing and scowling. "I know there aren't enough words to apologize for keeping my marriage and pregnancy from you. And it has nothing to do with you, I promise. It just happened so fast and we were so happy, we didn't want to lose that."

"And letting your mother know is the sure death of happiness, then?"

"If he had been any other man, with any other last name," Ginny stared pointedly at her father, "that wouldn't have been true. But yes, if we'd shown up at the Burrow together…it would have been a disaster, and I would have spent the past seven months fighting members of my family rather than enjoying time with my husband."

Molly said nothing, because there wasn't anything to say. Her daughter was dead right. Sniffing slightly, Molly wasn't entirely sure she liked what that said about her.

Ginny seemed to lose a lot of her steam after that. She walked to the door of the room and paused to face her parents. "Mum, Dad, I love you both. But I love him, too. More than words can say. Before I leave I want to answer the questions you would have asked if the man was any one else. Yes, we're happy. Yes, he treats me well. I feel terrible about letting our fears get in the way of telling you before now, but I can tell that my theories were correct, so I'm not sorry."

When she opened the door, she wasn't surprised to find Draco on the other side of it. From his facial expression, Ginny knew he'd heard every word she'd just said. Without comment, she walked straight into his arms and kissed him softly. There was no sly look back towards her parents to gauge their reaction; she didn't want them thinking that the embrace was for their benefit.

"I was just coming to let you know that Harry and Hermione are headed for the hospital wing."

"Thank you, er…" said Molly, clearly struggling to keep the disapproval out of her voice, but still not able to even say his name. Small as it was, he appreciated the effort.

"How did it go?" Draco muttered as the well spaced foursome walked through the corridors, each pretending the other didn't exist.

"Doesn't matter, Draco."

"That bad?"

"Don't worry about it, babe. They'll either come to accept it, or they'll live without me in their lives. I've already gone a month without you; I'm not prepared to repeat the experience."

Draco hugged her to his side a little more firmly and dropped a quick kiss to the top of her head. He wasn't about to let her give up her family for him. This called for drastic measures. Scratching up what courage he could, he resolved to have a wizard to wizard talk with Arthur Weasley as soon as possible.

^*^*^*^*^

It was two hours to the minute when the group reassembled at the hospital wing's heavy oak doors. Molly Weasley was pounding on the door and demanding entrance.

"Molly," Poppy said in exasperation as she pushed open the heavy door, "that didn't work when you went to school here and it won't work now."

"Poppy," Ron's voice sounded from just behind her. "Let them in, okay?"

Molly and Arthur went first and Poppy held up the other four. "Mr. Weasley requested some time alone with his parents first."

No one in the group protested that, and they all sat down to wait. Silence stretched as Harry and Hermione pretended to ignore Ginny and Draco as they spoke in quiet voices. Hermione felt her heart ache for them as she saw Ginny's eyes fill with tears, watched Draco pull her closer, and heard him say "I love you, Red. It'll all work out."

Something was stirring in Hermione, something tickling the back of her mind, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. Before she could think about it any further, though, she felt Harry's hand smooth over the seven month bulge of their child. As if recognizing its father, the baby gave a resounding thump towards his hand.

"Two more months," he whispered.

"Two more months," she answered with a grin. But when Harry's smile turned to a frown, she clasped his hand firmly. "And yes, I'm probably going to scream just as loudly as Mariah did."

Harry's normally fair skin took on a decidedly green tinge. "Isn't there anything you can do about the pain?"

She was kept from answering when Arthur peered around the door. "Come on in, the baby's awake and wants to meet her aunts and uncles."

For at least fifteen minutes, the only sounds in the hospital wing were coos and awws and congratulations as the baby was passed from one to the other. Ron was thumped on the back, Mariah was kissed on the cheek, and all bad feelings had been checked at the door.

But all good things must eventually end. And the Rianne's joyous welcoming by her extended family ended when her maternal grandmother and Kalena came crashing through the door.

"Darling," she simpered, joining her daughter at the bedside and peering at the swaddled baby. Whether in reaction to her grandmother or sensing Mariah's tension, the baby immediately began to howl.

"Smart kid," Draco muttered to Ginny.

"Shut it," Hermione and Ginny muttered back.

"Mother," Mariah sighed, passing the baby to Ron. "Why are you still here? We said all we needed to say earlier."

"How could I not stay and see my granddaughter?"

"Well, you haven't seen _me_ in over five years, Mom. I didn't think my having a baby would make much difference." Mariah's eyes widened as comprehension dawned. "Oh, but of course. It's what the baby _could_ be that has you simpering like this. I should have known."

Ron knew that he was the only one who heard the sadness and acceptance that mingled with those words. He didn't know if she was aware that she was transferring her thoughts to him as she spoke, but he was pretty sure she wasn't.

Kalena seemed to think that the prime opportunity to step forward. "Mariah? May I see the baby?"

Mariah could do nothing but nod to Ron. Fear and anticipation threaded through him as Kalena took his daughter and laid her down near Mariah's feet. The room fell deathly silent as she unwrapped the pale pink blanket and examined the baby from head to toe. Ron was dancing on his last nerve by the time she handed the baby back to Mariah.

"She looks like a perfectly healthy little girl to me. We'll have to wait until she's 18 or so to know the type and extent of her gift."

"You mean…" Mariah trailed off, unable to believe what Kalena was inferring.

"She is not a Triuna, Mariah. She's a normal Diviner child."

There was a loud whoosh as everyone in the room let out their breath at the same time.

"We will leave you now," Kalena said. "There is nothing for us here any longer. Allison, come with me. We have other matters that require our attention."

"But what about the attacks? The man behind them?" Hermione asked what the others were thinking.

"We will handle that. This man shouldn't bother you any longer. We know who he is, and I have a fairly good idea where he's living. I'd say it's safe for you to go back to your normal lives. Once I make sure he knows there is no Triuna to abduct, he'll leave you be."

The hospital wing turned into an outright party after that. Rianne slept through most of it, and the staff slowly made their way through to congratulate Ron and Mariah. Molly was talking to Minerva McGonagall when she noticed Mariah out of the corner of her eye. The young woman's shoulders were convulsing slightly. Her maternal instincts went into full alert when she noticed the tears.

"What's wrong, dear?" Molly asked once she reached her side.

"I…" she lowered her voice so Ron couldn't hear. "I'm afraid, Mrs. Weasley."

"Molly, love. Call me Molly." Molly perched an ample hip on the bed, effectively blocking her son from seeing them. There were some things women just needed to discuss without the wizards hovering. "What are you afraid of? I thought this witch, Kalena, said the baby was normal."

"She did. But you saw what raised me. How can I be a good mother when I had such a poor example? I don't have the first clue about babies, or being a mother or…" More tears spilled over her lashes and down her cheeks as she clutched the sleeping baby even closer to her. "I don't even know why I'm crying."

Molly, who had been through the post delivery blues seven times and knew the routine well, patted Mariah on the arm gently. "Tell you what. Why don't you talk to Ron about coming back to the Burrow with us? We'll get to spend some time getting to know you and Rianne. And I'll help you get on your feet about the business of motherhood."

Mariah burst into loud, raging sobs of thankfulness. Ron was at her side in a flash. She waved him off, passed him the baby and threw her arms around Molly. Ron felt about as useful as a case of belched up slugs, but his mother gave him the "everything's okay, I'll explain later" smile.

The next day, the five of them left Hogwarts for the Burrow, Draco and Ginny headed back to the Manor, and Harry and Hermione settled back into their positions as newlyweds, parents-to-be and professors.

And for the next few weeks, things were back to normal.

^*^*^*^*

Renae stood in a corner of the darkened room, watching Sabastian pace. In the two weeks since the owl had arrived, he'd clearly decided to leave his sanity behind altogether and go completely mad. The thought held no humor or comfort.

"I don't understand it," Sabastian growled, still stalking around the room like a caged panther. "First this letter from that witch…"

Renae bristled. He used the word witch like others used the word whore.

Almost as if he still didn't believe what he'd seen written on it, he crossed the room and began waving the parchment in the air. "This…this…fabrication. It's in the witch's writing but it has Kalena's fingerprints all over it. And now, that woman and her Bond are out in the open. They're taunting me, I know it." He stopped and seemed to suddenly realize that he wasn't alone. "You!"

Sabastian turned to her and she jumped. "Yes, milord?"

"You said a Triuna was coming. You told me you saw it. And that the witch's daughter was a part of it. And now this," he waved the parchment again, "says that the baby is normal. Were you wrong?"

"No, milord," Renae muttered, her mind casting in several different directions. With a heavy heart, she took the only option available to her. "Perhaps the witch lied to you, and now they're hiding in plain sight. They don't know your brilliance, Sabastian. They don't know what you're capable of or the strength of your mind. Perhaps they think that by telling you that the woman's child is simply a normal Diviner baby, you'll leave them alone."

Mentally, she crossed her fingers and hoped he accepted her logic. _I'm sorry, Mariah. I'm only doing what I have to do. I hope that one day you can forgive me._

"Then they are the fools I've always believed them to be." The horrible gleam was back in his eyes as was the smile that made her blood turn to ice water. "I must think this through. Leave me so I can plan. But you must be prepared to leave at a moment's notice. And inform me if you see anything pertinent."

"Yes, milord." Renae glided from the room, robes billowing behind her. Filled with self loathing like she'd never experienced, Renae went back to her cell. A stronger woman would have told him the truth. A stronger woman wouldn't have hidden behind a newborn baby.

But she was well and truly on her own. If help was coming, she'd have sensed it…seen it. And as they had left her to her own devices, she was doing the best she could.

^*^*^*^

Hermione placed her feet on the low table in front of her and sighed. These days, seeing her feet at all was a treat. At first, the elephantine growth in her abdomen hadn't made any sense to her. After all, Mariah hadn't ever looked like she was harboring a watermelon under her robes. Then she realized the difference in their heights. As she barely reached five foot three, Hermione figured that the baby didn't have anywhere else to go _but_ out.

Since she and Ginny were roughly the same height, they were able to commiserate. And now, thanks to Draco, they had the whole weekend to trade pregnancy stories.

No one had been more surprised than Hermione when Draco suggested that the six of them get together once a month. She'd sensed Ginny's reluctance to leave her friends a month ago, and Draco had obviously picked up on it as well. The gesture warmed Hermione's heart even further towards him. That he loved Ginny was undeniable; but the suggestion of a monthly get together proved his willingness to go to any lengths to ensure her happiness…even if it meant spending one weekend a month in close proximity to her older brother.

"You know what I miss?" Ginny grinned, bringing Hermione back to the present. "Tying my own shoes."

Hermione laughed. Just that morning, she'd needed Harry's help with that very chore. It was embarrassing at first, but then he'd kissed her ankles gently after tying her laces. She'd decided that maybe it wasn't so bad, after all. Before they could get further into the eight month pregnant blues, Mariah joined them.

"Rianne asleep?" Ginny asked.

"Finally," Mariah yawned, "for how long is the real question." She took a seat in the empty love seat and closed her eyes immediately.

"Is everything okay, Mariah?" Hermione cast a worried glance towards her best friend. For reasons she couldn't quite name, she didn't think that the circles under Mariah's eyes were caused solely by a fussy newborn.

"I'm…" she stopped suddenly and rubbed at her eyes. "I was going to say fine. But I can't lie to you, either of you. But I need your promise that you won't tell Ron."

Ginny and Hermione shared a look that took only a fraction of a second and conveyed the same meaning. Their silence was conditional.

"I've been having nightmares ever since Rianne's birth. And they've been getting steadily worse. At first it was just a few seconds every other night. Now it seems more like all night, every night. The simplest tasks are getting to be more than I can handle and my temper's becoming shorter and shorter."

"What are the dreams about?" Hermione asked. Skeptical as she was about the divination art of dream interpretation, she'd had too many experiences with dreams to discount them entirely.

"My childhood, for lack of a better term. I keep seeing the same child over and over again. He's always being horrible to me, hitting me, throwing things at me, and then my mother comes and takes him away."

"What does he look like?"

"I don't know. Mother leads him off before I can see his face. But he seems so familiar."

Hermione was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "It sounds a lot like the dreams I had while I was trying to keep myself from remembering my past. _You_ haven't been battling amnesia, have you?" she was only partially kidding.

"Not that I'm aware of," Mariah yawned again.

"How about a memory charm?" Ginny asked, sitting forward. "There was an article I researched about a year ago about the effects of stress on poorly cast memory charms. The mediwitch I talked to said that certain conditions can cause ruptures in a memory charm and, in effect, create leaks. I don't remember exactly, but I think childbirth was one of those conditions."

"There's something else, isn't there?" Hermione guessed, sensing the sudden tension in her friend's shoulders. But before Mariah could answer, the men came in, still grimy from their pickup Quidditch match against the Slytherin team.

"How'd it go?" Ginny asked a little too brightly, obviously trying to make sure the guys didn't ask what they'd been discussing.

"Potter cheats." Draco said with a grin.

"Sod off, Malfoy," responded the other five. Even Ginny had taken up the habit.

Conversation turned to a play by play of the match as the men boasted and the women pretended to hang on every word. Hermione, cuddled in Harry's arms, found her eyes traveling to Draco again and again. There was something different about him tonight that she was having trouble placing. Then it hit her - Draco had a tan.

"Actually," he was saying, "I just returned from Aruba the other day. Some local wizards were having a field day with the tourists, and their Ministry asked me to come and have a word with them."

"Draco's promised to take me there after the baby's born and I can't wait. Of course, I'll have to stay out of the sun with this skin. It just kills me the way he tans." She grinned up at her husband, "don't you think Draco turns a lovely shade of brown?"

Mariah clapped a hand over Ron's mouth, obviously hearing his pithy remark before he uttered it. "Lovely," he agreed slyly, winking at his sister.

Hermione, however, couldn't join in the laughter that followed. Her head was beginning to pound and a powerful sense of déjà vu was threatening to overwhelm her. Then she caught Draco's eye. His whole face was shuttered, but she thought she saw something behind the pale gray eyes…something he was hiding.

She managed to remain in the common room with everyone for another hour before making her excuses and heading to bed. Harry draped an arm around her shoulders as they walked back to their apartment.

"Are you okay, love?" Harry asked once they were alone.

"I'm fine. Just a bit of a headache."

They undressed silently and slid beneath the sheets. Without a word, Harry placed his back against the headboard and waited for his wife to lean her back against his chest. As the baby grew, it was becoming more and more difficult for Hermione to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Every night for the past month or so, he'd taken to massaging her shoulders and neck until she relaxed enough to sleep. Harry began to knead the skin at her temples instead of her shoulders, hoping to alleviate the pain he'd seen behind her deep brown eyes.

Hermione didn't know why exactly, but tonight, Harry's gentle caresses made her want to cry. Finally, either from exhaustion or Harry's ministrations, Hermione drifted into sleep. And unfortunately, she dreamed.

 __

 _Hermione walked slowly along the coastline, the gentle waves lapping at her feet as they ebbed and flowed. She was waiting for him…it was their last night together before she headed back home. And she was going to ask him to come visit her. Shy little plain Jane was going to be forward for the first time in her life…_

 _Then she was on a dance floor. The band at the front was beating out a pulsing island song that had her breathless as she tried to keep up. Strong hands were fixed around her middle as they guided her through the complicated steps. "Just go with it, beautiful, I won't let you fall…" She wanted to turn her head to see the owner of the strong hands, but her back was pressed too tightly into his chest._

 _And then she was at an airport. She could hear the distant rumble of planes preparing for takeoff and landing. An overpowering sadness filled her as she pulled her arms even tighter around the man. She'd always wondered what a broken heart felt like. Now she knew. "I'll miss you, beautiful."_

 _"Then come see me," she said with a sob, trying desperately not to sound like she was pleading._

 _"I can't. Believe me, it's better this way, Jane. By the time you get back to America, you won't even remember me."_

 _She pulled back and lost herself in the dewy gray of his eyes. "I could never forget you. Never." She raised herself up on her toes and pressed her mouth firmly to his. He resisted at first, then fisted his hands in her hair and deepened the kiss almost immediately. His tongue weaved a spell on her as it always did, gliding and retreating, leaving no centimeter of her mouth unexplored._

 _She clutched him to her even tighter, knowing she was making a spectacle of herself befitting a bad romance heroine and not caring in the slightest. All that mattered was kissing him, pouring the feelings she'd developed for him into this last kiss._

 _Then she felt something on the back of her head and felt him pull away, his breath labored in her ear. But rather than words of love, he whispered one word only._

 _"Obliviate."_

Hermione sat up in bed, tossed her head from side to side and tried to convince herself that it had only been a dream. But it was too real. It was too much like the memories she'd uncovered in sleep before.

Dawn was just beginning to thread its way across the castle grounds and Harry was still sleeping peacefully. When she'd sat up, his hand had slipped from her hip to her thigh. With an aching heart, she traced a finger over the smooth fingers, over the wedding band she'd placed there almost a year ago.

Easing from the bed as gracefully as she could, Hermione dressed in silence and left the apartment. Ginny was just emerging from the room she shared with Draco.

"Morning," she yawned. Ginny's hair was a tousled mess, and her face still bore the traces of sleep.

"Morning," Hermione answered as evenly as possible. "Draco still asleep?"

"No, he was up early. I think he went for a walk down by the lake. He had a lot of trouble sleeping last night - kept tossing and turning. But at the moment, Junior is insisting rather pointedly that I eat. Now." She grinned and headed down the corridor.

Hermione waited until Ginny was out of view before turning in the opposite direction, towards the lake.

When she found him, he was skipping rocks into the lake. The Giant Squid was trying to bat them back rather poorly.

"You know," she said softly, "I joked with Harry a few months ago that the Squid was a magnet for people with issues."

Draco tossed his last stone into the lake and stood to face her. Brown and gray locked immediately…each searching for an answer, for the truth. Hermione gasped as Draco broke the contact first.

"It happened, didn't it?" Her voice was a harsh whisper, a mix of anger, surprise and dread mingling there.

"Yes, Jane, it did."

Hermione stumbled. Her knees no longer felt like they could support her weight. Draco was at her side in a flash, placing a supporting hand on her arm and another around her waist to steady her.

^*^*^*^*^

Harry awoke slowly and trailed his hand to the other side of the bed. It was cold. He sat up, pulled on his glasses and scanned the room. There was no sign of her.

"Hermione?"

No answer.

Smiling, he pulled on his clothes and ran his fingers through the unruly mop on his head. _Not that it makes any big difference_ , he thought and gave a snort of laughter. After tying the laces on his trainers, he headed for the lake. He'd felt her restlessness all night and knew she'd spend her morning walking around the lake and trying to puzzle out whatever dream had plagued her the night before.

^*^*^*

"I don't understand, Draco," Hermione said in a quivering voice. "Why did you put a memory charm on me?"

"You were starting to remember things, Hermione. I don't think you realized it at the time, but I did. You would use words from the wizarding world, like calling the other tourists Muggles, saying one man looked like Snape and so on."

"Why didn't you help me, then? Why did you send me away and take away what little I was remembering?"

Draco sighed deeply and turned from her towards the lake. "Think, Hermione. Before you disappeared, I was still Gryffindor Enemy Number One. I'd spent a few years trying to figure myself out - deal with my identity crisis, if you wish. When you showed up on the island, I…well, at first I saw it as an opportunity to have a little of what I'd envied all those years. A chance to get to know you without all the prejudices in the way." He paused and Hermione hoped he'd continue, but he didn't. Instead, he just gave her his trademark smirk. "You should feel honored, Hermione. Sending you away was probably the first respectable thing I've ever done."

She opened her mouth, a sharp retort ready to explode off her tongue. Then logic overcame irritation. Memories assaulted her, some half formed, some complete. All of them disturbing…a smile like now, only on a younger face…a curse that made her teeth grow past her collar…a garland of flowers…filthy, little Mudblood…the sweet sense of a first kiss…

Hermione felt her knees begin to buckle again and Draco tightened his grip. "Will you tell me what it was like, what we did?" Both of them knew the dangers inherent in removing memory charms and therefore knew that wasn't an option.

"Someday, perhaps. But there really isn't much to tell. We met, spent some time together on the island -"

"Kissed," Hermione half asked, half stated.

"That, too," he grinned, "but that's all."

If there were any lingering doubts in her mind about Draco's change of character, that statement erased them. Hermione knew she'd been a virgin when she and Harry made love the first time back in her apartment. The Draco she'd known growing up wouldn't have hesitated to use her lack of memory to his advantage…or to torture her with false claims.

"I don't know if you know this or not, but I came to your reception." Hermione only nodded, sensing this was something he'd been waiting for an opportunity to say. "I wanted to wish you both the best of luck. It seemed like everything clicked back into order when you got married. With you two together again, as it should have been years before, possibilities opened to many people…even self imposed exiles ended."

"And you met Ginny," she finished. The smile that spread across his face cast them both in a glow that rivaled the rising sun.

Harry saw Draco on the lakeshore and headed his way to ask if he'd seen Hermione. From the way he was standing, Harry guessed he'd be interrupting a very private moment between a husband and wife. Thinking quickly, he changed his course so as not to disturb them. His feet had just hit the worn path that circled the lake when he cast a look over his shoulder at the pair. Draco had just leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Ginny's mouth.

His feet stopped moving and his jaw fell to his chest.

That wasn't Ginny.

The child in him felt the strong desire to run and hide; the adolescent wanted to stride over and pound Malfoy's face into the soft, fragrant earth at the lake's edge. But the adult was in charge. And the adult would act as such.

Walking as erect as if his spine had been replaced by solid steel, Harry walked close enough to the entwined couple so that they couldn't miss seeing him. He slowed his gait until all three made eye contact. And then he strode past them without an emotion on his face or a word for either of them.

His composure broke halfway to the front steps into the castle as he heard Hermione's heartsick voice calling after him.

"Harry….."


	10. Chapter 10

"Harry?" Hermione called tentatively as she pushed open the door to their apartment. The only response was the soft, sad echo of her own voice. She wiped at the tears that had been coursing freely from her eyes ever since he had walked away from her. If she closed her eyes, she could still see the look of mingled horror and betrayal flash across his face before he replaced it with an emotionless mask.

Then he had stalked away from her at a pace she couldn't hope to keep up with while harboring twenty extra pounds of growing baby Potter.

"Oh, Harry," she sobbed quietly, sinking to the mattress. "Why wouldn't you talk to me?"

"Hermione?" Ginny asked, peering around the door Hermione had left ajar. One look at her tear stained face, and Ginny was at her side. "What is it? Is it the baby?"

"No," she managed before breaking down completely. Ginny, bless her heart, didn't try to stop the tears. She didn't even speak. She just draped an arm around her shoulder and let Hermione cry.

"Thanks," Hermione sniffed once the tide had ebbed.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Two sets of brown eyes clashed as Hermione suddenly realized who was comforting her. It wasn't just her friend Ginny…it was also Draco's wife. She knew that her conscience wouldn't allow her to sweep the details under the rug.

"Gin, there's something I have to tell you," Hermione began, her mind a whirlwind as she tried to think of how to begin.

"Does this have anything to do with what happened between you and Draco just now?" Ginny asked with a smile.

Hermione was glad she was sitting down. The casualness of Ginny's tone would have knocked her legs out from under her otherwise. "You know?"

"Of course I know," Ginny smiled and squeezed Hermione's shoulder with the hand resting there. "He just told me that he kissed you and that Harry saw it. Although I'm not quite sure I understand why Harry stormed off like that. Unless it wasn't just an innocent peck on the mouth."

Before Hermione could even begin to defend herself and Draco, she saw the wry grin and slight eyebrow raise. She sighed and smiled back. "You know it was, Ginny. I love Harry more than I ever thought it possible to love another human being; and Draco loves you so much, it's almost scary. He was just…"

"He was just wishing you well." Ginny paused to gather her thoughts, to phrase them correctly. "Hermione, one of the first things I learned about Draco is that he's a very affectionate man. I don't know if he's making up for the lack of it during his childhood or not, but if I were to get upset every time I saw him kiss another witch, I'd have a pretty miserable life."

"There's something else, Ginny. Something I just found out this morning."

"You mean about your time together in the Caribbean?"

Hermione just barely resisted the urge to pinch her leg. This conversation was almost too surreal to not be a dream. Ginny knew? A little bubble of anger was beginning to well up past the sadness. Why hadn't either of them felt the need to tell _her_ about it? She said as much to Ginny before she could stop herself.

"That was wholly Draco's idea. I've been pestering him on and off for a while to tell you the truth. I've been a bit more vocal this past month now that we've all become so close. He, on the other hand, felt no need to burden you with it. And since the memory charm was still holding, he…well…" Ginny reddened slightly.

"He still felt bad about using it and didn't want to tarnish the new image?"

"In a way. He also just wanted to let the past stay in the past. It's not like you had some torrid island affair, Hermione. You just spent time together, kissed a few times, and generally became good friends."

"I don't remember most of it, just vague little flashes," Hermione said quietly.

"What I really don't get," Ginny frowned slightly, "is Harry's reaction. He seems to be the only one having a problem with it. Would you like me to talk to him, explain about the whole Carribbean thing?"

"Thanks for the offer, Gin. But I think _I_ should talk to him first." The tears were threatening again, but she held them off. "As soon as he comes back from wherever he's gone, that is."

"Well, the offer's open. Or I can get my brothers to beat some sense into him if you'd rather."

Hermione smiled weakly since Ginny seemed to expect it.

After Ginny left, Hermione began to pace the room, trying to figure out where Harry could have gone after she'd lost sight of him. Part of her wanted to go haring after him; not only to find him, shake him, and hug him but also to find out what had upset him so much about an innocent peck on the lips. But she knew that Harry was a brooder, and she had to respect that, no matter how hard it was. She'd give him the space he obviously needed.

Crossing to her writing desk, Hermione removed a file of notes from the _Avada Kedavra_ counter and set to work…and to wait.

Hermione's heart leapt into her throat when she finally heard the door swung open an hour later. Unfortunately, it was Draco standing there, not Harry.

"What do you want, Draco?" Hermione snapped, her disappointment shortening her temper.

"Maybe I should come back when you're a little less hostile. Ten years sound good?"

In spite of herself, Hermione laughed. Draco took that as encouragement and walked over to the chair opposite her at the small table. "What did Harry say?"

"I haven't talked to him yet," she sighed.

Draco looked floored. "What do you mean? You were following him; he was right in front of you."

"Well, I couldn't quite keep up," she indicated her swollen stomach with her hands. "By the time I got to the entrance hall, there was no sign of him. I figure when he's ready to talk, he'll come here."

Their eyes locked in an uncomfortable silence. "Draco, what am I going to tell him?"

"I don't know. Would you rather I spoke to him first?"

"No. He has no idea about the past …all he knows about is the kiss. That's something we need to discuss together first."

Another silence descended, just as uncomfortable as the first. "Why didn't you tell me, Draco? Why leave me to find out this way?" Her temper began to roar into high gear, her discomfiture over the barely remembered past mingling with her hatred of being deceived. "Are you that much of a coward that you couldn't face me with what you'd done? Or were you planning on spending your life obliviating my memory every time I got close to the truth? Because let me tell you, Draco Malfoy, no matter how much you've changed, that was still a low and crass thing to do to someone."

"Are you finished?" Draco quipped, trying to cover his hurt with nonchalance. "Because if you are, I'd like you to put yourself in my shoes for a moment."

"What do you mean?"

"I knew you were close to remembering who you were. You kept referring to the magical world even though you didn't realize it. I knew when that happened, you'd also remember who I was. You'd forget the man you spent a few days touring an island with and remember the Slytherin you hated instead. I couldn't -- wouldn't -- burden you with that because I wasn't strong enough to stay away from you. Besides, I didn't want you going back to your life pining after me."

"Feeling a bit arrogant, are we?" Hermione smiled, but it was more grim than happy. "Why didn't you tell anyone I was alive? Why didn't you tell Harry?"

"I don't know, Hermione. I won't say it didn't occur to me, because it did. And I had a million and one reasons at the time for not informing the rest of the wizarding world. They seemed perfectly rational at the time, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that I was just a coward, just like you said. It was easier to just let it go, so I did. I figured your memory was coming back, so my not informing anyone would just delay the inevitable for a while."

Hermione opened her mouth to agree, and then noticed the hurt swimming around in his gray eyes. And she decided then and there to let it go. There were so many more important things in her mind; she couldn't find the mental energy to continue. Besides, no matter his actions, everything had turned out all right. Harry had found her, and….Harry. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as his blank face swam before her eyes.

Swallowing the grief, she reached across the table and took Draco's hands in hers. "Shall we agree to let it go, then? Chalk it off to a past mistake that turned out all right in the end and carry on?"

Draco sighed in relief, letting the tension slide off of his shoulders. "You're an incredible witch, Hermione Potter." He raised one of her hands to his mouth and kissed her fingers. Regardless of her protests, he was going to find Harry and at least attempt to explain.

Once she was alone again, staring at the notes in front of her, Hermione admitted to a nagging sense of worry. Three hours later, the worry had started to border on full blown panic.

^*^*^*^

"Ron?" Mariah looked up from feeding Rianne as he walked into their bedroom, his face the same shade as his hair. She could still feel the waves of dread that had come from him one on top of the other. "What is it?"

"This," Ron shook two pieces of parchment in the air. Letting a little of the anger seep out, he kissed both of his girls on their heads and sank to the mattress. "I just got an owl from Ginny, saying that Harry and Hermione have had some sort of disagreement and asking if I'd seen him today. Not two seconds later, another owl drops this one onto my desk."

Ron held the parchment up for Mariah to read.

 _Ronald. Harry is here…you'd better come quickly. M. Rosmerta_.

"Oh dear," Mariah met Ron's beleaguered blue eyes. She saw the flashes of memories in her own mind as they played through his. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asked, knowing he'd be heading to Harry's aid, as always.

"No, angel. You two stay here and get some sleep. I'll wrestle him home and be back as soon as I can. Will you be okay?" Ron stood, clearly wanting to hurry but also not wanting to go.

"We'll be fine, Daddy," she grinned.

Ron winked and kissed them both again before he left. During the five minutes it took him to reach the pub, he kept hoping that he wouldn't find what he dreaded.

His hopes were to no avail.

The Three Broomsticks was almost eerily quiet when Ron crossed the threshold, and there was an audible sigh of relief from the few patrons there. Madame Rosmerta scurried out from behind the bar towards him, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Thank goodness you're here," she nearly panted. "I didn't know what to do. I've kept his drinks pretty well watered down, which goes against my principles, but he's been here since I opened at noon."

"I'll handle it," Ron sighed. As he neared Harry, the déjà vu became so strong, he felt like he'd traveled back in time rather than just down the street. Harry's head lay on the table, a half filled glass of Ogden's Firewhiskey in his hand.

"Come on, mate," Ron echoed his past self. "Time to get you home."

Harry didn't pop his head up in drunken glee the way he used to, though. When the swollen, bloodshot eyes met his, Ron staggered. The last time he had seen sorrow that raw was after Hermione's funeral…in the same eyes that met his now.

"Ron. I can't. Can't go home. Can't see her."

"Sure you can, Harry. You'll grovel, say you were a prat and she'll forgive you. Charlie says it's the theme song of the married man and we all have to sing it occasionally."

"Me?" Harry's voice raised a few octaves in sudden fury, and the pub quieted again to eavesdrop. "What the bloody hell do I have to grovel for? _I_ wasn't the one in Malfoy's arms. _I_ wasn't the one kissing him."

 _What a story that would make_ , Ron thought sarcastically. Then Harry's words sunk in and he realized what he was hearing. "Malfoy was kissing Hermione?" Ron said in a hoarse, sinister whisper; outrage for both his sister and his friend spreading through his veins like a virus. "I'll kill the bastard."

"Get in line," Harry slurred, then reached for the whiskey he'd left on the table. "He says to me 'it was an innocent kiss, Harry…doesn't mean anything, Harry…let me explain, Harry'."

Before Ron could utter the spell that would sober Harry up enough to allow them to plot Malfoy's murder, the wizard in question walked in to the pub, hand in hand with Ginny.

Ron left Harry mumbling and staring into his drink. If he told Harry that Malfoy was there, then he wouldn't get a proper shot at him. As he was the sober one, the first punch was all his. He was three steps away, fist raised, when Ginny stepped in between them.

"Hang on, ace," Ginny held up both hands to ward off her brother. "Wouldn't you rather hear the whole story before going off half cocked?"

"That'd sure be a switch," Draco quipped, but dropped the smirk when Ginny glared at him.

Grabbing her brother by the arm, she pulled him out of the Three Broomsticks and proceeded to tell him exactly what had happened early that morning. It took a while for it to sink in that Ginny was more upset by Harry's actions than by Draco's. And as the story unfolded, he couldn't help but agree. Much as his brother-in-law still grated on his nerves, Ron could only hope that his daughter grew up to love as fiercely and as openly as her Aunt Ginny.

Based on what he heard, though, he was having a difficult time figuring out why Harry had ended up here, drunk, over an innocent peck? Ron shook the question from his head. The answer to that would have to wait. For now, he needed to get Harry out of the pub to pass out in his own bed.

Ron sent Ginny and Draco back to Hogwarts. He figured they could prepare Hermione for the state her husband would be in when they returned. And as much as he wanted to use a sobering spell, Ron knew it was the easy way out for Harry. His best friend needed the wake up call of going home to his wife completely pissed…the ignominy of that should keep his arse firmly on the wagon after this little slip.

Ron walked back over to the table and hooked his arm under Harry's, lifting until his friend was on his feet. Ron hoped that being on his feet again would sober him up a little. It didn't. All the fresh air did was bring on Phase Two - Depression. There were several phases to Harry's state of inebriation, if memory served. He desperately hoped that they'd be safely in the apartment at Hogwarts before Phase Four - Unconsciousness set in.

Harry's eyes widened and his steps slowed when he realized the direction they were walking. "I can't, Ron. I can't go back there…not to her. I'll just sleep it off at your place and go back in the morning."

"Not a chance, mate. You need to face this here and now. If I let you put it off until morning, you'll just find another reason tomorrow. The longer you stay away, the harder it is to go home. Besides, Rianne sleeps in the spare room now and there's no way I'm letting my little girl share a room with a drunken sot."

Harry said nothing after that, content to stagger at Ron's side towards the front steps of Hogwarts. Ron cursed under his breath when he saw Draco waiting there for them. He tried to motion the Slytherin away, but Draco stood his ground.

"I need to talk to him again, Weasley," Draco said as Ron continued to wave his hand like he was shooing a fly. If the fire shooting out of Harry's green eyes was any indication, they'd progressed to Phase Three Hostility. Thankfully, that meant he'd be passing out soon.

"Why, because your first conversation was such a resounding success? It'll keep until morning, Malfoy. He's at the end of the drink, and…well, just trust me. Leave it until tomorrow when he's completely sober."

"Quit bloody talking about me like I'm not here, both of you. And Malfoy? You can take your explanation and shove it up your pale white arse."

Maybe Ron should have done more to get Malfoy away from Harry until he passed out. Or maybe he'd hoped that Harry's Hostility Phase had lessened over the years. _Or maybe,_ a little voice whispered in the back of his mind, _maybe you wanted to see Malfoy get slugged…just once._

Whatever the reason, Harry's hand rose and flew without any restraint from either of the other men. Draco howled in pain while Ron winced at the sound of breaking bone. And Harry laughed the whole way up to the staff tower singing "I broke Malfoy's nose!"

^*^*^*^

Ron didn't waste any time leaving Harry off with Hermione. He walked into the apartment, dumped a nearly passed out Harry onto the bed and strode out without a word. As much as he wanted to stay with Hermione, he needed to talk to Malfoy more.

"Malfoy?" Ron called as he pushed open the heavy oak door, peering down the long rows of empty beds.

"Over here," was the muffled and slightly nasal response.

Ron stood back as Poppy tended to the break and magicked away the swelling and dual black eyes Harry had given him.

"I need to know, and I need to know now. What happened between you and Hermione?"

"This morning or before?"

"Both."

Draco winced as the last of the break healed. Ron's eyes were doing everything but shooting lasers at him. He knew there was no hope of asking Ron exactly why he deemed this his business. Where the Almighty Trio was involved, if you hurt one, you hurt all. It was comforting in a way to know that hadn't changed.

"Nothing happened, Ron," Draco sighed, hoping that by using his first name he could remind him that they were at least supposed to _act_ like friends. "Hermione took a holiday, I don't know, a couple of months before you and Harry found her. I was amazed at first that she didn't recognize me, or herself for that matter. And I will admit that the Slytherin in me wanted to use that to my advantage. But I got a chance to really get to know her, Ron. The Hermione that you and Harry knew. And I liked her…a lot."

Draco paused, waiting for Ron to rebreak the nose that Poppy had just fixed. He was rather gratified that the other man's arms remained at his sides. Maybe there was hope after all.

"But she was still Hermione Granger, even if she didn't know it anymore. And I was Draco Malfoy. And if there is one thing the Hogwarts class of 1997 knew, it was that Hermione Granger and Harry Potter was the one inevitable thing outside of the rotation of the earth - and that the Gryffindor Trio hated Draco Malfoy with the intensity of a thousand suns.

"She was remembering little things, Ron, and I knew that when she remembered the rest she'd return on her own to the wizarding world. I also knew that she'd hate me forever for the deception. So I sent her away, obliviated her memory of our entire encounter and figured that would be that."

Ron continued to stare at him. He wanted to hate him. He wanted to rebreak the nose that was still a little red with dried blood. But he'd known enough pain in his life to recognize it in another. And he knew that Draco had done what seemed appropriate to him at the time…he could see the sense in the other man's actions.

"And this morning?" Ron prodded, still needing more information. The small part of him that was still leery of his former enemy wanted to hear if the story was the same now that Ginny wasn't at his side.

"This morning, I gave Hermione a brief, sisterly kiss and Harry saw it. As for why he went all cracked about it, your guess is as good as mine." Draco's silver eyes met the blistering blue of Ron's. "I swear to you, Ron. I swear on my love for your sister. The kiss I gave Hermione was no more passionate than the one he gave Mariah after Rianne was born."

Ron remembered that moment vividly. As everyone was passing the baby around, Harry had leaned over and kissed Mariah briefly on the lips. He also remembered being touched that his best friend felt that comfortable with the woman he loved.

Most importantly, though, he believed that Draco was telling the truth. The last vestiges of distrust had died; the boy they had grown up with was well and truly gone. In his place was a man trying to combine a shaky past and a promising future the best way he could.

Ron nodded once then turned to leave the hospital wing. He hadn't gone two paces before he turned back. Overcoming years of conditioning, Ron held out his hand to his brother-in-law and grasped it firmly. "Thanks for telling me, Draco."

After Ron had left, Draco shook his head twice and began to seriously wonder if he'd hallucinated the final two minutes of his talk with Ron. It was either that, he thought wryly, or Weasley was actually beginning to accept him.

Grinning madly at the thought, Draco left the hospital wing to find Ginny and allow her to baby him a bit.

^*^*^*

Harry woke without opening his eyes. Two questions assailed him simultaneously. First, who had stuffed his mouth with Hedwig's feathers? Second, why was his brain attempting to beat its way out of his skull?

A deep, humiliated groan issued from his mouth. It sounded about ten times louder to his addled brain that it actually was. And then he remembered it all with a vivid clarity that surprised him. In the past, he'd awoken with little to no memory of the night before. Not this time. He saw Draco kissing Hermione…his attempt to find Ron…running into Draco…walking into the Three Broomsticks, and, dear Merlin, whacking Draco in the face. He flexed his hand only to find that it hurt marginally less than his head.

"Harry?"

Logically, he knew she hadn't screamed his name, but that's what it had sounded like.

"Harry?" a little louder this time. He opened his eyes a crack and then slammed the lids shut again.

"Too bright," he whispered.

"Honestly. This is nonsense. I don't care what Ron says about letting you recover on your own." He could hear her rummaging through the paperwork on her desk and then her deafening " _Ex Inebriatas_."

All at once, the pain left his head and his mouth no longer felt like the last resting place of used cotton. Sometimes, wizardry really had its benefits.

"Thanks," he said quietly, sitting up in bed and fixing his glasses on his nose. "Er…Hermione?" he began, then promptly shut his mouth again. He had no idea what to say.

The silence stretched between them. Each second they remained quiet, the chasm separating them seemed to grow another yard wider. Harry stared at his hands, Hermione stared at the top of his shaggy haired head.

"I'm sorry," they said simultaneously.

"Why?" they answered each other, again at the same time.

Finally, as if drawn by a magnet, their eyes met. In Harry's eyes, Hermione saw a wealth of contrition, embarrassment and curiosity. In Hermione's, Harry saw only one thing…sorrow.

And because of that sorrow, the pain he'd caused her, Harry couldn't find the words to make it right. He kept his mouth shut and allowed her to continue.

"I know that I hurt you, Harry, and I am so sorry for that. It seemed like my whole world fell apart when you walked away from me." Tears moistened the warm brown of her eyes and she let them fall from her lashes. "I never want to have that feeling again."

"Neither do I," he managed around his own unshed tears. The emotion was so thick in his throat, he was amazed the words were coherent. But then her next remark dried the emotion, and the tears, in a blinding flash.

"But I still don't quite understand why something so innocent caused you such anguish."

Anger like he hadn't known in years coursed through him. _Innocent?_ He thought. She thought that kissing Malfoy was innocent? What was next? Was he supposed to stand idly by the next time he saw Malfoy examining Hermione's tonsils and console himself with the word "innocent"? Did finding them shagging in the Astronomy Tower qualify as innocent, too?

Hermione waited for Harry to speak, completely unaware of the heat flowing through his veins. If he'd met her eyes, she'd have known, but he kept his eyes on his own clenching fists instead.

"Sorry," he ground out, but couldn't say more without risking an explosion. "What brought it about?" This was the one thing he needed to know more than anything.

Hermione sighed a little and explained about the dreams, and her finding out that she'd met Malfoy before she'd regained her memory. The anger within him reached near boiling. Malfoy knew? He knew she was alive and didn't tell him? The bastard has taken the hand Harry had given him in friendship and used it to stab him in the back. If he lived to be as old as Dumbledore, he'd never forgive that betrayal.

He was nearly turned inside out with all the conflicting emotions rampaging through him -- and he needed to be alone to get them under control. Somehow, he managed to convey to Hermione that all was forgiven. That he was sorry for having caused her worry. They kissed briefly and Harry made a quick escape, claiming he wanted a quick wash before they met the others for brunch in Hogsmeade.

Once in the shower, Harry let the hot water beat down on his skin as he struggled to reign in the rage threatening to overpower him, the sense of betrayal from both Hermione and Draco. But the blind fury that had begun so rapidly burned itself out before long. His rational mind began to chip away at every horrible thought, every unfounded accusation. Once the anger had cooled, all that remained was a lingering, aching numbness. The emptiness that filled him pushed out every other thought, every other emotion until all that was left was the outer shell.

^*^*^*^*^

Ron's eyes fluttered open, the sound of Mariah's not so harmonic voice filling their bedroom. He watched quietly as she rocked in a chair, feeding Rianne and singing to her with a voice that reminded him vaguely of Nearly Headless Nick's orchestra. Not that Rianne cared a whit. Come to think of it, he didn't either. The tableau before him had quickly become his favorite sight upon waking.

Except for the shadows that continued to deepen beneath Mariah's eyes. Once again, he'd felt her toss and turn the night before. As his anxiety over Harry and Hermione had kept him from deep sleep, he was able to soothe her a bit as she slept; but he'd also heard her mumbling. Whatever dreams were assailing her, they weren't pleasant.

 __

 _Are you going to stare at me for much longer or just ask me?_

Mariah's thought in his head jerked him out of his thoughts and their eyes connected.

"What are the dreams about, Mariah? I heard you talking last night, but not enough to know what you were seeing."

"It's nothing, Ron," Mariah responded, casting her eyes downward.

"Don't tell me it's nothing," Ron barked. Rianne jerked slightly in her mother's arms and Ron lowered his voice. "Please, angel. Tell me what's bothering you so much."

"I'm afraid for Rianne, Ron."

Ron felt as though she'd just hit him with a very large, very heavy club. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't this. "Do you mean afraid of making mistakes?" he asked hopefully.

Mariah heard the hope in his words and felt it in his mind. But now that she'd started this, she couldn't lie anymore.

"No, Ron. I'm afraid for her life. The dreams I started having? They're getting worse. Much worse. I see this horrid little blond child; he's throwing things at me, pushing me down - usual kid things. But as he's tormenting me, I hear Sabastian's voice mumbling and Renae's weeping."

"How do you know it's Renae? I didn't think you ever saw her while you were there."

"I didn't, and I'm not sure how I know it's her, I just do. She's crying and saying 'I'm sorry' over and over again. Whatever we believed, whatever we hoped…he's still after the baby, Ron. I'm certain of it."

That last comment sapped what little composure she'd managed to maintain and tears started to leak out from under her lowered lids.

Ron collected the now sleeping baby and whisked her off to the crib in her room. Once Rianne was settled, he returned to their bedroom, took Mariah's hands, pulled her to standing and wrapped his arms around her.

Ever since the baby had been born, Ron had been slowly acclimating to the feel of Mariah in his arms…without the protrusion of their unborn child. And it was getting more and more difficult to hide the unmistakable male response he had to her. He had no idea how long after childbirth a woman was able to make love, and didn't know who to ask. Broaching the subject with Mariah seemed almost crass as they had only made love twice before the Rianne's arrival. A wonderful, glorious, mind-numbing twice…but it made things awkward just the same.

 _Doesn't matter at the moment, though, mate,_ Ron lambasted himself, _the last thing she needs to deal with is some horny wizard._

"Ron?" Mariah asked into his shoulder, using his bare shoulder to wipe her tears.

"Hmmm?"

"What if I'd rather deal with a horny wizard than a scary nightmare?"

Ron nearly fell to the floor as all the blood rushed from his head. With shaking hands, he reached up to cup her face. Their eyes held, Ron's filled with disbelief, Mariah's bright and smiling.

"Angel," his voice was a hoarse rasp, "I don't think this is the time."

Mariah's smile widened as she dropped her arm from around his neck, trailed her fingers down the solid bare back and rested it at his hip. With a slight pressure, she pulled his hips more firmly into her own until she cradled his need. "Feels like the right time to me."

"Er…" he coughed and laughed nervously, "that's not quite what I meant. We're due across the street for brunch in less than half an hour."

"How long do you need?"

"Long," Ron grinned down into her blue eyes, gratified at the gasp issuing from her mouth and subsequent increase in her breathing.

"Then I say we get to brunch and then get back here as quickly as possible."

Ron kissed her smiling mouth with an aching tenderness that mimicked what he'd much rather be doing with her at the moment. When he was positive that he'd driven her nearly as mad as he felt, he pulled away. "We'd better get dressed."

She panted out a brief epithet.

"I plan to," he grinned, and jumped aside before her hand could connect with his backside.

^*^*^*^

Each of the six people seated at the round table in the Ember Tavern's main dining room wished rather vehemently that they had owled to cancel this little brunch. Of all of them, only Ginny, Ron and Mariah attempted conversation. Harry was as silent as the grave, his face never quite leaving his plate as he poked at the food on it. Hermione poked at her food as well, but kept shooting furtive glances at both Harry and Draco. Draco managed to eat, but only between worried glances at Harry and Hermione.

Ron and Mariah just kept staring at each other and laughing quietly.

After an almost unbearable hour, they stood from the table and made their way through the restaurant to the High Street. There were a few words of farewell; Ginny, Mariah and Hermione all hugged each other goodbye before they all went back to respective homes. The wizards stood watching and waiting impatiently to leave this awkward weekend behind them.

"Harry?" Hermione said quietly as they walked back towards Hogwarts. He was right at her side and holding her hand, but he hadn't said a word in nearly ten minutes. And obviously wasn't planning on breaking the silence any time soon.

"Harry?" she tried again. When he still didn't answer, Hermione stopped walking and jerked on the hand in his until he turned to face her. "Are you ever going to speak to me again?"

Pain flashed briefly in his bright green eyes, but he closed it off rapidly. All she saw in his face now was…nothing. A heartbreaking, discomforting nothing. "I just have a lot on my mind, Hermione. End of term exams are coming up soon, you know."

Hermione watched as he strode back to the school, clearly not intending to finish the walk with her. A frightening tremor of foreboding shivered along her skin, causing goose bumps to form despite the warmth of the early afternoon.

^*^*^*

Two weeks later, Hermione sat in their empty apartment staring out of the window. Never in a million years had she thought that she would ever look back on that awkward brunch with a sense of nostalgia. But she did. That was the last time her husband had said her name. These days, she was lucky to see him, let alone get a word out of him. On the fingers of one hand, she recounted every word he'd uttered to her in the past fourteen days…and not one of them progressed past monosyllabic niceties.

Drastic times now called for drastic measures. She'd sent two owls a few hours ago. The first to Draco, asking him to come back to Hogwarts as soon as possible. A part of her hoped that Draco would be able to crack through the shield Harry had erected around himself.

At first, she'd thought it was just her. But after speaking to Ron, the other students and faculty, she realized that Harry had closed himself off from everyone. Katia had told her that he taught his classes like usual, but left the room the moment the bell sounded.

She didn't know what had caused this reticent behavior, but she was determined to end it before the baby came. And if she couldn't, then she'd have to leave him. Simple as that. The thought sliced through her heart like a sword, but it was her only option. She wouldn't have her baby grow up in such an environment.

The second owl she'd sent was her last hope if Draco failed to get through to Harry.

Wiping an angry tear from her eye, Hermione turned to watch the fireplace next to her as it erupted with emerald green sparks. Draco Malfoy emerged a moment later brushing soot from his robes.

"Draco," she sobbed and threw herself into his arms. He stood stock still, running his hands up and down her back as she cried.

It was, of course, the worst time for Harry to walk in…but walk in he did.

As he had two weeks earlier, Harry spared them one brief glance before stomping off without a word. Draco felt Hermione stiffen as the tears began to pour from her eyes again.

"All right," he ground out between clenched teeth. "That's just bloody it."

Draco pulled away from Hermione's grip and charged after Harry, calling his name so loudly it echoed off the walls.

Draco, not being eight months pregnant, found it easier than Hermione did to keep up with Harry's long strides. Regardless, it wasn't until Harry stalked into a room at the top of the Astronomy Tower that Draco had him cornered. The one window provided minimal light, but from what Draco saw, it looked as if Harry had been spending quite a bit of time here. Clothes were strewn across the dusty furniture and a pallet of blankets had been made up on a bench near the far wall. Apparently, things between Harry and Hermione were much worse than he thought.

"Well, well," Draco panted, slightly out of breath from the chase, "if this isn't a familiar sight. Harry Potter, brooding in the Astronomy Tower."

Harry remained where he was, staring out of the open window over the Hogwarts grounds. He didn't respond to the taunt.

"You probably don't know this, but the last time I saw you standing here was two days after Hermione's funeral." Draco saw the slight tensing of Harry's shoulders and continued in the knowledge that he at least had Harry's attention.

"I wanted desperately to say something to you. Anything. We'd mended our past feud, I was about to leave the country, and it seemed like a good idea. But I had no idea what to say…what do you say to someone who's just buried the woman he loved?"

Harry still didn't turn around, but Draco saw the other man's shoulders shaking - whether with anger or grief, he couldn't tell.

"But this is different, Harry. The woman you love is downstairs right now, crying her eyes out on a nightly basis. You've shut her and everyone else out over something so trivial. For Merlin's sake, Harry, you kissed Mariah the same way after Rianne was born. What made the kiss between Hermione and I so bloody different that you have to retreat into yourself like this? Did it bother you that much, or do you just enjoy being the martyr of the wizarding world?"

Draco sighed, and then plunged on with the one thing he hoped would get through to him. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret that I'm not even supposed to know, Harry, and then I'll leave you to your brooding."

Draco took the few remaining steps to close the distance between him and Harry and turned him around forcibly until they were eye to eye.

"If you don't get your head out of your arse, you're going to lose her. And there won't be any getting her back this time."

Harry's green eyes remained blank and fixed on a point just over Draco's shoulder.

"Bloody hell," he spat, then turned and left Harry to his own devices.

Harry's shoulders slumped the moment he was alone, silent tears flowing down his cheeks, burning his skin like acid.

In a matter of moments, Draco was back in the apartment giving Hermione the bad news that his efforts had been for naught.

"I tried everything I could think of, Hermione. He wouldn't even look at me." He rose and walked over to the fireplace. "I've got to get back, though. I hate leaving Gin alone for long these days."

"Of course," Hermione smiled, running a hand over her own soon-to-be-born child. "Give her my best."

Draco threw a pinch of powder into the fire, said "Malfoy Manor" and took a step forward before turning back to Hermione. "I'm sorrier than I know how to express for causing all of this, Hermione."

"Nonsense," she tried to smile. "This isn't your fault."

Hermione paced the small apartment, debating over and over whether or not she should head to the Tower to confront Harry again, to point her wand at him and _force_ him to talk to her. She was just about to give it one more try when a knock sounded on the door.

Sirius Black stood on the other side.

Sirius opened his arms to her, and she flung herself into them, nearly crushing him in a bear hug. She eased his hold a bit and he bent to place a kiss to her forehead.

Hermione smiled up at him in greeting. "Hi, Grandpa."

^*^*^*^*

Harry was still in the Astronomy Tower when Sirius found him. His heart ached for his godson, sitting alone with his misery. It wasn't the first time he regretted not adopting him, and knew it wouldn't be the last. But Harry was a man full grown now, and Sirius' regrets were for him and him alone.

Now it was time to pick his godson up, dust him off, and give him a good kick up the arse, if need be. He might not be Harry's father in the eyes of the law, but he was in every other way that mattered. And he'd known James well enough to know what _he_ would have done in this situation.

"Harry?"

"Why can't you all just leave me the bloody hell alone?" Harry nearly screamed, turning to face the latest intruder. When he saw who it was, his jaw dropped. "Sirius?" he said in a shaky, dubious voice.

"In the flesh," he grinned, "or would you prefer fur?"

Harry didn't respond. He just walked over to his godfather and did something he hadn't done since he was seventeen years old -- he wrapped his arms around Sirius and cried.

Once the storm of grief had passed, Sirius led Harry over to two of the observation room's chairs. He desperately wanted to ask one of the hundreds of questions on the tip of his tongue, but he knew too well the benefits of waiting. And Harry had to open this conversation, or they'd be lost before they began.

"I've screwed it all up, Sirius," Harry said softly. "It's hopeless."

"Tell me precisely what you've screwed up," Sirius prodded. "Then I'll decide whether or not it's hopeless." He considered remaining silent, but then asked the one question he needed an answer to first. "Are you drinking again?"

"Just the once. Two weeks ago, right after I caught them together."

"Hold it right there." Sirius clenched his fists, the urge to console nearly as strong as the urge to throttle. "You say caught them together as if you found them in bed together, naked and shagging. As far as I've been told, Malfoy merely gave Hermione a brotherly peck on the lips."

"But she's not his sister, is she?"

"No, she's your wife." Sirius let that remark sink in, and watched the play of emotions cross Harry's face.

"I know I overreacted, Sirius. I hate how badly I blew it out of proportion. But all of it seemed to close in on that one moment and it was more than I could bear."

"All of what?"

"My whole bloody life," Harry shouted, slamming his fists onto the table and then stood, pacing around the room.

Sirius watched him, just barely containing a sigh of relief. _Finally, Harry. You're finally starting to deal with it all._ Of all the possible outcomes, this had been the one he'd hoped for most.

"I haven't caught a break since I was one year old, Sirius. Voldemort takes my parents, their best friend, my best friend, and my whole bloody childhood in the stroke of two curses. When he's finally defeated, everyone starts congratulating me, calling me a hero -- and all I wanted to do is die so that I could be with Hermione again. But I buried the rage, the depression, all of it trying to live up to the image people expected of me. It didn't work and I ended up pissed out of my mind for nearly three years.

"And then a miracle happens. Hermione is back in my life. We're married, we're expecting a child, and I spend all of my time secretly terrified that the other shoe is about to drop. That the miserable luck I've had all my life is going to take her away again. Or do something to the baby…or that our child will grow up an orphan like I did. "

"And the whole Draco and Hermione thing?" Sirius prodded.

"Once my rational mind took over, I realized that there was nothing behind that kiss other than friendship. But by that time, I'd closed myself off so effectively, I couldn't seem to find the way back. And now I'm going to lose her, Sirius."

"Not unless you want to, Harry. The door to the cupboard isn't locked anymore, Harry. All you have to do is open the door."

Sirius stood and left the room quietly. Harry needed time now, time to think and time to decide where he went from this moment on.

^*^*^*^

She was in the library. That was unsurprising and quite fitting. Harry had spent an hour in the tower, replaying his conversation with Sirius over and over in his head until he knew the only recourse left him. The only thing he could do.

He'd grovel, beg, plead - hell, he'd offer to mow the Quidditch pitch with a pair of garden shears, just so long as she said she'd give him another chance.

"Excuse me," Harry said roughly, standing in front of her table. "I'm looking for books on witches and wizards." He wondered vaguely if she'd remember the request he'd put to her over a year ago in an American library.

Hermione's brown eyes jumped to his, disbelief and confusion on her face. And then she remembered. And then she smiled.

And then she was in his arms.

They stood that way for quite some time. Neither moved nor talked, they just gloried in the feel of being in each other's arms again. Hermione was afraid to move since she'd had dreams like this so many times, only to awaken empty handed. Harry was afraid that when she pulled away, she'd tell him it was too late. That it was over between them and walk away.

"Mione, love," Harry whispered into her hair. "I am so sorry. I was such a great stupid prat, and I know there is no excuse for my overreaction over something so completely trivial. You have every right to hex me with every spell you've ever learned."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Harry silenced her with a finger pressed to her lips. "I don't deserve you, Hermione. I think there's a part of me, a part still buried in that cupboard, that doesn't feel deserving of love at all. All I know for sure is that I love you with all my heart; I always have and always will. Please tell me I haven't messed us up too badly…please tell me that there's still hope?"

Hermione pulled away slightly from his embrace. She wore a blank mask over her normally expressive face and was silent for much longer than was comfortable. But their gazes remained locked, and their arms remained around each other. "You hurt me, Harry."

His face fell and a single tear tracked down his cheek. "I know. And if I had a time turner, I'd change that in a heartbeat."

Rage flooded through Hermione; a rage fueled by two weeks of emotional upheaval. She took a few steps away from him, not trusting herself and the overpowering urge to slap him. "That's your response? A time turner? You shut me out for two weeks, and your only solution would be to go back and change things so it never happened? That's a cop out. Adults deal with their arguments, Harry, they don't run from them or magically alter them."

"Well I wouldn't know that, would I?" Harry spat her anger right back. "The Dursley's weren't exactly the best role models, Hermione. All they taught me was to lock uncomfortable or unwanted things in a cupboard." His head dropped and he removed his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "Guess I learned that lesson fairly well, didn't I?"

Hermione stared at him. Her heart filled with her love for the man he was and the boy he'd been. And she realized she didn't want to continue this anymore. Harry was in front of her, his remorse over his actions almost palpable. It was time to move past this heartache…time to move forward. She made no move towards him, but softened her voice. "If you ever freeze me out like that again, Harry Potter, I won't hesitate to transfigure you into a skrewt."

Then she was back in his arms, her lips were on his, and everything else fled her mind except for the feel of Harry's mouth, the texture of his lips and tongue. The kiss pulsated with the sting of remorse and the bittersweet taste of reconciliation. But just as a mother's touch on a skinned knee, it eased the pain and salved the wound. And when their lips parted, all that remained was a healing peace.

"Harry," she whispered hoarsely as he bent to nibble on her neck. "Are you forgetting something?"

"Nope. I remember this spot all too well."

Hermione gasped as he found the sensitive hollow at her collarbone. "I meant that we're in the library."

By the stunned look on his face, Hermione guessed that he _had_ forgotten. But then he threaded his fingers through hers and walked her back to their apartment. There were still questions to be answered and issues to be resolved, but Hermione didn't care a damn about any of that. For now, she had her husband's hand in hers…and that was all that mattered.

^*^*^*^*

"Can I show you something in particular?" Ron asked the witch standing before him, gazing into the cabinet on the other side of the counter. She'd been browsing the store for the past half hour and hadn't said a word yet. It was starting to drive him mad. Closing time had come and gone ten minutes ago and he was desperate to get upstairs and try to sleep a bit before Rianne woke up for her evening fussy period.

"Yes," came her melodic response. "The large box of assorted tricks. My nephew's birthday is next week and that looks like just the thing."

Ron smiled his best shopkeeper's smile as he retrieved the box and placed it on the counter for her inspection.

"How's the baby?" she asked without looking up, her voice soft.

Ron was puzzled for a moment. How did this woman know about Rianne? _She's one of your best customers; she's in here all the time._ Of course, that was it. Fatherhood must be playing tricks on his memory, what with the two hours of sleep he was getting these days. The idea of Mariah's Persuader gift never even entered his mind.

"Rianne's just fine, thanks. Not sleeping too well at night, yet. But we're getting there."

"I'm sure you are. That reminds me, I realized this morning that I'd never given you the present I bought for her after she was born. I'm so sorry it's so late."

"Don't worry," Ron smiled and accepted the package from her. He unwrapped it quickly to find a cute little bear, all primary colored and softly fuzzy. He knew it was imperative that he use the wrapping paper to hold the bear, but couldn't remember why.

"I've got to run for now. I'll be back later for the gift box. Don't forget to give the present to Rianne," she grinned, then Disapparated.

Ron engaged the anti-opening charm and headed up the back stairs to the apartment. Of course he wouldn't forget to give the bear to Rianne. In fact, he'd do it right now.

He crept up the stairs silently, trying desperately not to wake Mariah. The nightmares weren't getting any better, and he knew she tried to catch as much sleep as she could, usually napping at the same time as the baby. And lying next to her in the quiet apartment while Rianne slept had rapidly become his favorite time of day - well, considering the intimate turn of their relationship, his _second_ favorite.

Ron leaned over Rianne's crib rail and placed the plush toy in beside her. He placed a kiss to his own fingertips then touched her head softly. "Love you, little angel."

By the time he'd settled Mariah in his arms and drifted off to sleep, the trip to the bassinette and the gift were completely forgotten. In the next room, Rianne flung an arm out, touched the bear and disappeared.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione sat at the library table she'd occupied the day before. Her notes were still in the same place, her quill was still lying atop a parchment half-covered in runes. In essence, nothing had changed since she'd last sat at this table. _Yet, at the same time, everything had changed._ Her heart sighed and her pulse jittered at the memory of the previous night.

When she'd first laid out her supplies yesterday, her heart had been in shambles, her marriage at its lowest point. And now...ell, now she was having a bloody hard time keeping a stupid self-satisfied grin off her face.

 __

 _The night before_

 _They walked back towards the apartment hand in hand, a sight that caused more than one student or fellow faculty member to stop and gawk. While curious glances met them, only smiles remained in their wake. Harry and Hermione were both so familiar with the attention that neither paid the looks any mind. As a matter of fact, they didn't notice the looks at all._

 _All Harry could see was Hermione, and all she could see was him._

 _They finished the journey to their apartment still plagued with their own version of tunnel vision, blocking out everything but the person at the other end of the hand._

 _Once inside, Harry shut the door firmly behind him and opened his arms to his wife. She nearly jumped into them, stifling a sob on his shoulder as his arms enfolded her. They stood that way for quite some time until Harry pulled back, took her hand and led her towards their bed._

 _"Harry," Hermione said as she cuddled into his arms. "I missed you so much."_

 _"So did I, Mione, love. And I'm..."_

 _"Hush," she whispered, placing a finger to his lips and then kissing him softly. She removed his glasses and raised her head so their eyes met with no impediments. "No recriminations, Harry. I don't want to think about the last two weeks. Right now, I've got my husband back in my bed. I'm not about to waste a moment like this on talking."_

 _Hermione deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue across the sealed seam of his lips. Harry lost the battle when she began to nibble at his lower lip. Reaching up to pull her closer -- as close as her distended stomach would allow -- Harry grabbed her hair by the fistful and plundered her mouth._

 _Her hands began to travel over a body that craved her touch more than a fish craved water, but when they began to unfasten his trousers, he halted her._

 _"Mione," he growled as she fought to continue undressing him, "Poppy told us that we couldn't make love during the last few weeks, remember? She said it could send you into an early labor."_

 _"She said that I can't, Harry. But last I checked," Hermione grinned at Harry's sharp intake of breath when she finally struck gold, "you aren't pregnant."_

 _They spent the better part of two hours laughing and teasing -- reconnecting on every level they could until they finally felt satiated. Hermione spooned into his arms, positioning a pillow to take the weight of the baby. Harry fell into sleep almost instantly, murmuring words of love in her ear even as he drifted off._

 _But sleep eluded Hermione. Partially due to the uncomfortable position the baby had settled into, and partially due to a heart that still ached at Harry's cold indifference over the past two weeks. She lay quietly for a while, watching the steady rise and fall of Harry's chest as he slept. With every breath, she felt the ache in her soul deepen._

 _As quietly as she could, Hermione left the bed and walked towards the window overlooking the lake. She sat on the padded stone window seat and stared out at the water. That lake had played such a monumental role in her life since coming to Hogwarts. A hundred different memories danced past her closed eyes until finally coming to rest on the one memory she couldn't shake the look on Harry's face two weeks ago._

 _While it was true that their physical reunion had taken some of the pain from her heart, their emotional reunion was still a ways off. He had told her some of his feelings in the library earlier, but she realized now that she was still holding back a bit of herself from him. The part of her heart so abused during the past two weeks was refusing to open up...refusing to allow him back._

 _Almost as if her very thoughts had bidden him, Hermione felt a hand close over hers and she raised tearstained eyes to his. He wasn't wearing his glasses. And somehow, it made the ache even more bittersweet in its irony...she was constructing protective walls as the one barrier he had wasn't there._

 _"Can't sleep?" Harry asked her quietly._

 _"No."_

 _Harry placed both hands at the sides of her face and used his thumbs to eradicate the tearstains from her cheeks. "Want to talk about it?"_

 _"Will you?" she asked, a little more acidic than she intended._

 _"Yes, love. I will."_

 _Harry led her back to the bed and settled her in his arms, her back to his chest. With their hands clasped over the swell of their child, he told her everything. The pain of losing her, his desire to drink himself to death in order to join her, all the worries, all the fears kept tumbling out of his mouth like so many pixies let loose from their cage._

 _Hermione said nothing while he talked, she just clenched and unclenched their joined hands, raising them to her lips every once in a while in support._

 _When he finally seemed to talk himself out, Hermione raised the one question she needed the answer to most. "And Draco?" she asked, knowing that was all she needed to say._

 _Harry shifted around on the bed, moving to face her. He raised his hands to her face and cupped her cheeks with a feather light touch. "Love, that was only the nudge. I'd been standing on the edge of that cliff for quite some time."_

 _Hermione smiled weakly, so Harry carried on. "I know a few things with absolute certainty, Hermione Potter. I know that I love you, and that you love me. I know I have a ways to go before I feel truly able to deal with obstacles the way I should. And I know that with you by my side, helping me, I will get there."_

 _She didn't answer. She couldn't around the lump in her throat. So she kissed him instead. A kiss unlike any they had shared before...as if this time, their souls were entwining instead of their arms. As if their true inner beings were becoming one through the contact of lips on lips._

 _And then they slept, wrapped in each other heart, body and soul._

Back at her table in the library, Hermione ran a hand over the swollen abdomen that kept up with the rhythmic contractions that Poppy assured her were just a sign that her body was preparing for labor.

With another grin, Hermione settled down to pore over the notes she had made for the counter. It didn't make any bloody sense. She knew she had it right, but the spiders kept disappearing. It was almost like having a word sitting on the tip of her tongue...she knew the answer was there somewhere, she just couldn't find it.

Resignedly, Hermione opened another book, loaded up her quill, and did what she did best...research.

^*^*^*^*

Mariah stirred lethargically, raising her hands over her head in a long, leisurely stretch. It seemed like forever since she'd awoken on her own and not to the insistent demands of a hungry infant. Scrubbing her hands over her eyes to rid them of sleep, she glanced over at the tuft of red hair sticking out from beneath the comforter. A wave of love so profound swept over her, she nearly gasped. If they weren't already engaged, she'd propose to him this second, she thought with a grin. Mariah leaned over to place a feather soft kiss to her fiancé's cheek and noticed the clock.

She gasped audibly.

That couldn't be right. There was no way that was right. The clock read 6:04 am. And that was impossible unless Ron had found a way for the baby to nurse without her knowledge. The last thing she remembered was feeding Rianne at nine the previous evening, just before Ron was due to close the shop. She remembered hoping that by feeding her a little early, she and Ron might actually have some time to themselves before the baby woke again.

Which meant that Rianne had gone nearly ten hours without eating.

A shimmer of panic slipped down her spine as she eased herself off the bed and slid into her robe.

Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run to the next bedroom, but she made herself walk. She knew she was just being a silly, overprotective mother. She knew that babies sometimes slept through the night early, and that it wasn't unusual for a six week old to do so. Mariah stuffed the panicked feelings down as she crossed the threshold into her daughter's room, knowing she'd get a hearty laugh at her overreaction once she picked up the baby.

But as she reached the crib side, and saw the empty space where her child should be, Mariah knew it would be a long time before she laughed again.

She slumped to the floor and screamed. A long, silent scream heard by only one other person. The anguished cry was still echoing through Ron's head when he reached her a second later.

"Angel? What is it? What's wrong?" Ron's face bore the rumples and creases of sleep, but the concern in his eyes was still visible.

"She's gone, Ron. Rianne is gone."

^*^*^*^

 _It wasn't any better_ , she thought. _If anything, it had gotten worse._

Renae sat in the once broken and decayed but now recently transfigured rocking chair, a baby nestled in her arms. The poor little thing was still whimpering slightly, but had finally cried herself to sleep.

For the hours she'd rocked her, Renae had felt every ounce of her resolve desert her. For the hours she'd listened to Sabastian rant, she'd felt her desperation grow. And for the baby, she would do what she had to do.

Last night, as they had sat waiting for the baby to arrive in the makeshift crib, she had studied the shell of the man she used to know. Any trace of Sabastian Jamison had been eradicated by jealousy and rage. The man she'd bonded with was no more. The insane man in his place was beginning to terrify her.

In one desperate and pathetic moment, Renae had hoped that once they had the baby things could return to normal. She had persuaded him to see the Triuna mark when he'd checked for it with the gleam of triumph shining from his eyes. Renae had hoped and prayed that if he believed this child was the Triuna, they could leave this place.

Her heart ached for Mariah, and she would try and find a way to return Rianne to her, but for the safety of all involved, she had to try and regain some control. And that meant keeping the baby for the time being.

"Milord," she'd whispered, "now that we have the child, are we returning home?"

"Home?" he'd spat. "Why should we go anywhere when justice is so near to hand? Why do you think I brought us to this dilapidated shack? I could have portkeyed that baby anywhere, but we need to be here. How else can they find us?"

Renae had gulped audibly. Like a whirlpool, the downward spiral of Sabastian's madness was now clearly beyond the point of no return. "You want them to find us, milord?"

"Of course I do," he'd addressed her as he would a particularly annoying child. "How can I attain the ultimate revenge if they don't find out who has their child? How can I land the ultimate blow if I don't do it in their presence?"

Later, Renae would wonder how she'd managed to keep her face straight. Because in that one moment, his entire mind had been opened to her. She had seen the madness, the anger, and the end result he hoped for.

He no longer wished to raise the Triuna child. He wished to kill it...while Mariah watched.

And that left Renae with only one option. She pressed a kiss to the downy head of the sleeping baby and resolved herself to her fate.

^*^*^*^

Draco stared at the assemblage before him with a heart that felt like lead. Harry was pacing, Hermione and Ginny were flanking Mariah, and Ron was staring at the floor.

In his whole life, he'd never thought he'd look forward to a snide comment from Ron Weasley. But he did right now. Anything would have been better than the hoarse voice that had greeted him with a "Hello, Draco. Thank you for coming."

When Harry had arrived at the Manor four hours earlier, Draco had thought he was there to apologize. But then he'd seen Harry's face, and his eyes. And he'd known that something somewhere had gone horribly wrong.

So he and Ginny had dropped everything to return to Hogwarts with Harry and provide whatever moral support they could.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be much at all. Hermione had said that their being there was all the support they needed, but Draco couldn't help but feel inadequate. And as he gazed at his wife, still sheltering their child within her, he realized there really was nothing he could do.

His gaze kept travelling to Ron. As the other man stared fixedly at the floor, Draco tried to think of what he must be going through...what his thoughts were at this moment. Panic? Fear? Sorrow? He imagined it was probably all three. With their relationship as friends rather than enemies still on its first legs, Draco wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation. He settled for a comforting grip on Ron's shoulder as he passed by on the way to speak to Harry.

Draco would have been surprised, however, to know that of all the emotions swirling about Ron Weasley at that moment, guilt was the most prominent. Guilt he couldn't quite place. But there was a nagging feeling that this was somehow his fault...that he'd done something to cause it.

Before he could do much but wonder where these thoughts were coming from, Mariah stood and started to pace, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as if trying to warm them.

Everyone watched in a kind of mute horror, and Hermione was reminded of a time her parents had taken her to a production of Macbeth. The way Mariah was rubbing her arms was nearly identical to Lady Macbeth's attempts to remove the blood from her hands.

"Mariah?" Hermione asked quietly. "What is it?"

"My arms hurt," she responded distantly. "They ache. They're empty when they shouldn't be. My ears are ringing with the sound of her cry. My baby is crying and I can't go to her. I can't help her."

No one attempted to stop Mariah's outpouring of grief. This was the first she'd spoken since telling Ron that the baby was gone. Tears of sorrow and compassion filled the eyes of those watching, but no one made a move to comfort her or stop her. Ginny shook her head to keep Ron from rising and effectively told the rest of the group to let her go. She knew from helping a friend deal with the loss of a child that it was best to let the mother talk for as long as she wanted once she finally opened up.

"I can't stand this. I feel helpless and angry and scared and sad. I feel guilt that is not my own and I don't know where it's coming from. I miss her so much, yet I know she's safe. In my heart, I know she's safe. But my arms hurt, and my heart hurts and I hate that she's gone, and I can't do anything to help her when she cries. I can't feed her when she's hungry because of that damned portkey Renae put in the bassinette."

Mariah seemed to freeze. So did the rest of the room.

"What did you just say?" Ron said quietly, his mind running in circles for reasons he still couldn't place.

Mariah herself looked just as bewildered, as if trying to recall what she'd just said. Her mind replayed the entire soliloquy as she watched Ron stand up and walk over to the window. When he passed her without a touch, or a glance, she suddenly knew where the guilt was coming from.

 _What's wrong?_ Mariah asked when she reached him.

 _Nothing_ , he answered.

 _Bullshit,_ she scowled, turning him to face her. _I know now that you're trying to shield me. But I can still feel it, Ron. The guilt is coming from you in waves. You must know that there is nothing for you to feel guilty about._

"But there is," Ron insisted aloud, and stalked away from her to pace the room.

All eyes focused on Ron. "I did something to cause this, Mariah. I know it. I just can't seem to remember what."

And like a bolt of lightning, the final piece of the puzzle fell into place. "Oh my God," Mariah breathed. In that moment, her sadness over Rianne's disappearance was replaced by a fierce determination. A sense of purpose -- and an almost encompassing need for revenge.

"What?" asked more than one voice.

Mariah waved the rest of them off and beckoned Ron to her. Once he was seated beside her, she placed her hands on either side of his cheeks and began speaking to him mentally. To the rest of the room, it looked like two lovers gazing into one another's eyes. But as Ron's eyes first grew wide and then glazed over with rage, they all knew something had happened. Something not good.

"Ron?" Harry asked from across the room where he had been debating the futility of search parties with Draco.

"That bloody bastard has my little girl," Ron screamed, his face turning the color of flame before losing all pigment to turn ashen white.

The words were like a catharsis to him, though, and he crumpled into the sofa, allowing Mariah to wrap her arms around him and soothe the tears.

Neither noticed when the room emptied to leave them in privacy.

"It's my fault, Angel," Ron sobbed into his fiancée's shoulder. "I gave her the bear. I'm the reason she's gone."

She knew any denials would fall on deaf ears right now, so Mariah simply murmured soothing words into his ear and ran her hands up and down his back. It seemed no time at all before the flood had passed. Mariah wiped the tear tracks from eyes now swollen and red.

"Ron, honey. It's not your fault. Persuaders like Renae can be more powerful than the Imperius curse...and nearly impossible to fight because you don't notice. There's no feeling of happiness and light when you're being Persuaded. You just...are."

"But I should have realized, Mariah. I should have done something..."

Mariah knew that nothing short of proof was going to alter Ron's perception. And she needed him to move past this if they were going to save their child.

Walking quickly, Mariah opened the door out into the corridor and invited both couples back in. Once they were all settled, Mariah stood before them like a teacher. "Who in this room is the best at throwing off Imperius?" she asked simply and without inflection.

Four voices called out Harry's name. With a nod, Mariah walked over to Harry and began speaking to him softly. Before the others could figure out what was going on, Harry had stood and walked over to the window, thrown it open and yelled "I am the Master, you are the Minion" then walked back over to the couch and sat next to Hermione.

"Do you believe me now, Ron?" Mariah asked.

Ron, whose jaw was hanging open in shock, merely nodded.

"Believe you about what?" Harry asked, his face a study in curiosity. Hermione explained briefly what had just happened. Harry shuddered slightly as the implications of such a gift, of such a power, hit him.

"Remind me to never hack you off, Mariah," Draco deadpanned.

She smiled weakly at him, but it was at least a smile.

"Now then, the real work starts," Mariah sighed. "I can rest a little more comfortably now that I know who she's with. I was fairly sure Sabastian was involved...I just didn't know how he'd done it. And now all we have to do is find him, and we'll find our baby."

"Mariah," Hermione began tentatively, not sure she liked the emotionless leader the distraught mother had become.

"I'm fine, Hermione. I've been dreaming of Sabastian and Renae ever since Rianne's birth. And now, I'm not so sure they've been dreams at all. I think they've been memories. And if they are, I know Renae will keep Rianne safe. And I know Sabastian will do nothing until we find him."

No one pressed Mariah on how she knew what she knew. The ancient practice of the Diviners was still new to them. But the conviction in her voice and the nearly fanatic gleam in her eyes convinced them, and they set about searching for Sabastian.

^*^*^*^*^

They sat in the common room for an hour discussing strategy. Owls would be sent to search the countryside; the residents of Hogsmeade and other magical communities would be alerted. Hermione suggested using the Muggle press as well.

Harry proposed the most radical move of them all...namely, asking the Hogwarts ghosts for help. No one seemed to think this would do any good, but as Harry pointed out, it couldn't hurt. He hadn't forgotten how Nearly Headless Nick had helped him when he'd been about to receive punishment from Filch in second year...or how the ghosts of his parents and Cedric and Bertha and the old man had helped him escape Voldemort in fourth year.

Only one ghost took the mission seriously, though. He heard the others grumbling during the nightly ghost's council about the futility of searching the castle for a sign of the missing child or the man that supposedly abducted her. Most decided to simply spread the word around and hope for the best. But he didn't agree with them.

One ghost decided that this was his chance to do something. To put aside the fear that had doomed him to an eternity of walking the planet and hopefully send him to the next plane...and to those that waited for him.

Sir Stephen of Kodiak hadn't been a man of action while alive, a trait that had ultimately resulted in his death by stabbing. But he was going to, by God, act now. He would haunt the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade if necessary, to find anything that could reunite the parents with their missing child.

His determination to conquer his fears had led him out onto the grounds, down the tunnel leading off the roots of the Whomping Willow, and to a door just outside what was rumored to be the most haunted house in all of Britain. He'd heard it said that poltergeists worse than Peeves lurked in this house, and as he approached, he could feel the trepidation rising...his inner voice telling him that there was nothing here, that he should just go back, where it was safe.

And then a stronger, more sure voice came through. The voice of she who waited for him...filling him with a resolve he hadn't felt in eons. _You're dead, Steve. How much safer could you be?_

So he persevered. He glided cautiously through the doorway, keeping to the shadows as best he could. Then he heard it. The small, frail cry of an infant. His jolt of surprise knocked a book from the shelf, but neither of the rooms two inhabitants noticed. Because by the time they focused their eyes on the spot where he'd been, Sir Stephen was already zooming back towards Hogwarts.

^*^*^*^*

The Giant Squid was lazing in the uppermost part of the lake, enjoying the beauty of the day. There was a warm sun caressing the Hogwarts grounds and a gentle breeze keeping everything and everyone from reaching an uncomfortable temperature. Hermione wanted to enjoy it as well; normally, she would have reveled in such a day. But there was nothing to revel in today.

Rianne had been missing now for over 24 hours. And they were no closer to finding her.

Hermione had tried to shut herself off in the library. However, poring over runes and beating her head against the wall the Bloody Counter had become wasn't enough to keep her mind from wandering to the lost baby or from the fanatical look in Mariah's eyes the night before. So she had left Harry a note and wandered out here to the lake.

A cacophony of raised voices intruded on her as she sat throwing bits of bread to the squid. She craned her neck around to watch her three favorite Gryffindors walking towards her, clearly in the throes of an argument. Déjà vu washed over her in waves.

"What seems to be the problem?" Hermione asked once she'd risen to her feet and walked over to them.

"Professor Granger," Katia sighed in relief.

"It's nothing really, Professor," piped up David, cutting her off. "Just a minor disagreement."

"And a witch who won't admit when she's wrong," Zach pressed, earning him a glare from the witch in question.

"Can I help you settle the disagreement?" Hermione asked, biting her lip and trying not to laugh. If her first observation of the three had the déjà vu coming at her in waves, she now felt like she was drowning in it.

"I keep telling them that certain spells and potions have to be altered depending on whether the subject is human or animal, and they keep telling me I'm wrong. If they'd just do their required reading...Professor Granger? Where are you going?"

David, Zach and Katia watched as Hermione left them, moving with as much speed as possible towards the stone steps leading into the castle.

Hermione's mind was a buzzing in a flurry of activity. She walked through the corridors towards her office, mumbling out loud and causing more than one person to stop and stare.

 __

 _It couldn't be that simple, could it? Have I really had the correct charm all along? Was it a simple matter of switching the words to reflect that the subject was arachnid rather than human?_

The absence of her favorite ghost in his usual suit of armor didn't even register as she pushed open the door of her office and began rummaging through her parchments and quills. She found the glass jar of spiders, removed one and placed it on her desk.

She stared at the spider for a few moments, gathering her nerve. She had written two counters to the _Avada Kedavra_ curse. One that worked like the original and would rebound the curse on the one who had cast it...and one that merely offered protection.

She placed her wand over the spider and murmured the words of the latter. With a glance upwards, she raised her wand and uttered " _Avada Kedavra"._

The spider seemed to look at her for a moment and then scuttled away towards the window.

It had worked.

"Excuse me, milady?"

Hermione looked up at Sir Stephen and grinned wildly. "It worked, Sir Stephen. My counter worked!"

"That is indeed wonderful news, milady. But I have just discovered something that I think you should know."

Something about the seriousness in his tone alerted Hermione at once. She had become quite fond of Stephen over the few months he'd lived outside of her classroom. And because of that friendship, she knew something was wrong.

"What is it?"

"I think I've found Master Weasley's missing child, milady. I heard an infant crying inside the Shrieking Shack just moments ago."

^*^*^*^*^*

"Well, I still say we Apparate in there and just take her back," Ron said through clenched jaws.

After Sir Stephen had informed everyone of his discovery, the living had gathered in one room while the ghost had been sent back to watch over the baby. This time, he had taken Sir Brian with him in case he heard anything useful while he observed them. He was not going to leave the baby unattended for any reason.

"Ron," Mariah began tentatively, taking his hands in hers.

"Perfect Gryffindor plan, Weasley," Draco snorted for the tenth time. "Rush in recklessly...brave and stupid."

"And you'd prefer the Slytherin method? Sorry, but I'd rather not wait for him to approach you about joining up with him."

"Draco," Ginny whispered, placing a hand on his arm.

"The only reason my fist isn't in his face right now, Red, is because he's your brother."

"I know." Ginny rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek briefly. The touch of her lips had its usual effect and his anger cooled by several degrees.

"If you children are finished, I think we need to listen to what Mariah has suggested," Hermione said loudly.

Just then, a ghost glided into the room and scanned the faces, crossing to Harry as soon as he located him.

"Sir Brian?" Harry asked, his pulse rate jumping. "What is it?"

"I've just come from the shack, Professor. I'm not sure if he saw us, or sensed us, but...he sends this message. 'Come to me and take back what I've taken. If you can.'"

All eyes flew to Mariah, who had suggested just that moments before. A fierce look creased her features before being softened by resolve and determination. "I told you. He wants a confrontation. Whatever he has planned, he wants us there to see that he's bested us. It's what he's been after all along."

No one spoke. No one moved. Every occupant of the room, both living and dead, stared blankly in front of them as they gathered what courage and wits they could.

"Hermione," Harry said, breaking the silence, "you're staying here."

Draco, who knew the direction of Harry's thoughts, replied, "You too, Gin."

"No bloody chance of that," Ginny spat while Hermione nodded her agreement.

"You are both pregnant and due to deliver any day now. There is no way I am letting you in the same room with that madman."

"Well, that's fine then," Hermione said stiffly. "You won't allow it. Fortunately for me, I am not your child, Harry Potter, therefore you have no right to _allow_ me to do anything. There is no force on this earth that will keep me from standing by my best friend's side during this."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Ginny concurred. Harry and Draco watched as their wives stood and walked from the room.

"We asked for it, didn't we?" Draco drawled, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Marrying those two?"

"Yeah, I guess we did," Harry matched the slight smile and turned to Ron and Mariah. "Are you ready for this?"

Ron was holding Mariah in his arms and talking silently to her. At her nod, he turned to Harry. "As ever."

^*^*^*^*^*

Renae patted the baby's back, trying to produce a burp. She hadn't taken kindly to Muggle baby formula, but hunger had overcome taste and she now took the bottle without hesitation. The little girl rested her small head on Renae's shoulder as she paced the dingy room. Renae tried to sing soothingly, but kept being interrupted by Sabastian's ravings.

She glanced over at the man. He hadn't moved from the front window since he'd noticed the ghosts watching him. Still as a statue, he stared out over the village of Hogsmeade almost willing them to appear in front of him. She felt them approaching a few moments before they arrived, giving her just enough time to run upstairs with Rianne. With a heart thudding in both fear and anticipation, Renae placed the baby in her makeshift cradle and tried to call up the courage to see this through. As she came back down the stairs, Renae slipped under the Invisibility cloak and watched as they Apparated in.

One by one, they arrived. Harry first, then Draco and finally Ron and Mariah. Once they had Sabastian in sight, Harry spoke. "It's okay."

Hermione and Ginny walked in through the front door, having walked from Hogwarts to the Shrieking Shack with the others, waiting until they'd Apparated before crossing the threshold. Hand in hand, the six of them faced Sabastian. Renae admired their loyalty to one another, and wished fleetingly that she had remained loyal to her friend as well.

But it was too late for regrets now. This was the time for reparation. _God have mercy on her soul_ , she thought. Renae drew out her wand and prepared to place the spells on each person when he spoke to them, just as Sabastian had commanded. Apparently, he wasn't as confident as he'd postured and knew he'd need her help to keep the others subdued.

The spell was a simple one, meant to render the victim incapacitated as he or she dwelled on bad memories or insecurities. She just hoped that the ghost, whoever he was, had heard her when she'd told him how to break it.

"And so here you are. What a motley crew stands before me," Sabastian said softly, the triumph clear in his voice. "I was a little worried that the women wouldn't come, but your kind are so predictable. Even laden with unborn of your own, you stand with her. Touching...and even more glorious for me."

"Enough posturing," Draco demanded in a voice that would have made even Lucius proud. "We have come as you requested, now give us the baby. You are clearly outnumbered here, Sabastian. Let's just have done with this once and for all."

"And I'm supposed to just hand you back the prize I have stolen and trust your good word not to harm me once you have her back? I think not, Draco Malfoy. And we've found bravery, have we? The man once so cowardly he erased a young woman's memory is now going to stand up to me?" The slump in the man's shoulders was enough to let Sabastian know he had succeeded and that Renae was performing her spell as planned.

Bolstered with his success, he turned to Harry next. "And you?" He met Harry Potter straight on, vaguely wondering what all the fuss was about.

"What about me?" Harry asked defensively, his eyes darting furtively to Draco who was staring at the floor, his eyes half closed.

"You can't even face the smallest bumps in the road without drowning them in alcohol, can you? How can a man so unable to cope hope to stand against me?"

"Now hang on," Ron shouted as Harry suddenly mimicked Draco's posture.

"You? Don't make me laugh. You never wanted this child. You didn't even look for her mother when she disappeared, did you? And then, once she'd reappeared in your life, you at turns ignored her and held her in contempt, isn't that right?"

Sabastian turned to the women as their mates remained motionless, eyes fixed, and minds trying to deny the impulse that the spell had cast over them. But it was too strong, and they were lost.

Hermione watched as Draco's, Harry's and Ron's heads drooped, fingering her wand the whole time. She knew he was placing some kind of spell on them, and it frightened her. She had seen Harry throw off the Imperius curse like others swatted at flies, but he was motionless now. Whatever this was, he either couldn't fight it, or didn't know it was even there.

What if she were next?

With her wand hidden up her sleeve, she could easily slide it down into her hand and be done with this whole affair with one smooth move. She knew how to perform _Avada Kedavra._ She'd done it many times on her work with the counter. She could end the life of this pitiful excuse for a human being in one easy...

And that thought scared her more than Sabastian himself. The ultimate in Unforgivable Curses was at her fingertips, and part of her mind considered taking the life of another person an easy task. What had happened to the young girl so appalled at the use of such magic? Had her fierce pursuit of success clouded her morality so thoroughly?

"Milady?"

Hermione heard a voice in her ear and felt a chill shimmer down her spine. Sir Stephen was nearby, but she couldn't see him. "Wake up, milady; he has put a spell on you and on the others. I will have to pass through you in order to wake you up, but do not let on that you are aware again."

Hermione nodded her head once to show her acknowledgement and had to brace herself against the shiver that ran through her when Sir Stephen's essence meshed with her physical form. A quick glance to the side told her that Harry, Ron and Draco were alert again, but still feigning the effects of the spell.

She could just hear Sabastian's voice as he finished with Ginny.

"Do you really think you left all that dark energy behind when you were eleven, Ginny? It lingers in you...it's what drew you to your husband in the first place. It's only a matter of time before you're just like me."

"Having fun?" Mariah said loudly as Ginny's head also dropped downward.

"I'm sorry, Mariah. Am I bothering you?"

"Boring me would be more to the point. I realize you are having a wonderful time with your little game, Sabastian, but I'd rather just get my baby and leave if it's all the same to you." Mariah fought to keep her voice sarcastic rather than scared, casual instead of concerned. It was the only way to keep Sabastian from knowing how shaken she really was.

"I don't think so, Mariah. It's not that simple. Did you think I took the child just to irritate you? This is the moment I have been waiting for all of my life and I plan on enjoying it. My only regret is that your mother and Kalena are not here to witness it. But, you can't have everything, can you?"

"No, you can't Sabastian. Or shall I call you Jason? That is your real name, is it not?"

Mariah felt a quick rush of triumph as he stumbled backward a few steps. "How?"

"You need to read up on your memory charms. Periods of intense stress will slowly erode them until they no longer exist. Childbirth is one of those periods, Jace. I've been slowly rebuilding what you stole from my memory ever since Rianne was born. Although, I will thank you for removing all memories of yourself. I've enjoyed not remembering you. But I didn't realize how much I'd missed the memories of my friends."

Mariah cast her eyes around the room, speaking to the one she couldn't see. "Hello, Na."

Renae's mouth dropped open at Mariah's use of her childhood nickname. Stunned, she removed the invisibility cloak and met her childhood friend face on. "Hello, Ria," she said softly, tears pooling in her eyes.

While Mariah and Sabastian had been talking, the five people behind them were whispering plans to one another. They were never going to get a better chance at keeping the upper hand Mariah had gained.

Draco raised his head and spoke, breaking the palpable emotion swirling around the room. "Touching as this is," he said simply, "I'd much rather see the reunion of mother and child."

Sabastian took another few steps backward as he realized all five of his victims were alert and focused on him with wands raised. His mouth opened and closed several times in shock and then he turned to Renae, eyes ablaze with rage.

"You bitch. You bloody bitch. You swore to me that the spell would incapacitate them. Your incompetence is only overshadowed by your stupidity." He turned to the five of them. "You are not a part of this. This is between Mariah and me."

"Wrong, Sabastian," Hermione said, her voice icy with hatred. "You involve one of us, you involve us all. That's how friendship works."

As one, they raised their wands towards him. Before they could stun him and end the whole affair, Sabastian raised his own wand and summoned Rianne to him.

"I always knew you were spineless," Harry spat as he watched the madman cradle his niece awkwardly in his arms. "Using a child for a shield is the lowest form of cowardice."

"That may be true, Harry," Sabastian smiled, "but it is nonetheless effective."

Mariah stood motionless, her eyes fixed on Rianne. Seeing her child, her baby, in harms way cut her to the core. Her arms ached to hold her, her senses screamed for her smell, her touch, her sounds. And those desires overcame all logic. She vaguely heard Ron's voice in her head telling her to stop, but she didn't listen. Instead, she charged at Sabastian, hands reaching for Rianne.

" _Stupefy!"_

The five others watched in horror as Mariah fell to the floor with a loud crash.

Draco and Harry immediately clamped hands on Ron's arms to restrain him. He was fighting them with all he had, but the mental anguish of the last 24 hours had left him weak.

"Anyone else care to have a try?"

They all did, but no one moved. With the smile of the insane, Sabastian awakened Mariah and watched with glee as she shakily returned to her feet and stumbled over to Ron. He placed a gentle kiss to her lips and enfolded her in his arms.

"Milord," Renae said quietly from behind him. "This has got to end."

Sabastian turned slightly to face her, a sneer on his face. "You insubordinate witch," he spat, "you do not decree the timetable. I am in charge, and I decide what happens and when. But perhaps you have a point. Enjoyable as this is, I am growing weary of playing with them and long for the revenge that has finally come to me."

"Revenge for what?" Ron asked through gritted teeth, Mariah still clutched tightly to him.

"Ah," he smiled again. "Finally, someone asks the question I have been longing to answer. This child," he gestured with the baby sleeping in his arms, "represents my life's purpose. The nice thing about being unwanted is that you become practically invisible at times. Harry, I'm sure you understand that.

"Through the course of my neglected childhood and adolescence, I heard talk of a miracle child, a Triuna Crudus. It seemed one was to be born in my lifetime, according to the Knowers. So I set about finding out all I could about it, and then watching for a wizard and Diviner becoming Bonded. Imagine my surprise, and delight, when word reached me that my very own sister had bonded with a wizard."

A startled gasp ran through the room and everyone looked to Mariah, who nodded slightly.

"It's true," Mariah said quietly, her voice still shaky with aftershocks from the stunning spell. "This man is my brother, though I didn't have much contact with him growing up. Mother sent him to live with relatives because she couldn't stand the reminder of her perceived failure."

"Failure?" Hermione asked.

"She considered having a son a failure, Hermione, because she wanted to only produce daughters...other Diviners." Mariah turned to Sabastian and spoke a bit more forcefully. "And that was her flaw, Jason, not yours and not mine."

"Ah," he grinned again, eyes alight with triumph, "but I chose not to quibble about such petty details. You were the favored one; you were the one she acknowledged. And now, you are the means through which I shall extract my revenge on her. She told me once, before I left, that she had been told by another Diviner while still young, that she would be closely connected to the birth of the miracle child. And when I was born, she nearly drowned me because I couldn't be the one that produced a Triuna. It was only on Father's pleas that she didn't.

"And now I hold Mother's precious progeny in my arms. The Triuna she so longed to be grandmother to. I only wish she could be here to watch as I kill what she wanted more than anything."

Stunned silence blanketed the room.

"But Sabastian," Ginny spoke softly, trying to appeal to him. "Mariah's child is not a Triuna. Kalena told us that when she was born."

"A subtle bit of trickery that I did not fall for. And this child is the Triuna," he averred, as if trying to convince himself as well as the others. "She has the mark."

Awkwardly, he unwrapped the bundle of blankets and showed a bare, unmarked left arm.

"What mark?" Draco asked.

Sabastian raised his eyes to Draco's and then looked back at the baby's arm as if seeing it for the first time. And then he realized how thoroughly he had been duped...and by whom.

"That's right, Sabastian. Rianne is no more the Triuna than you are," Renae said clearly as she moved to stand in front of Mariah and Ron. "So return that child to her parents and let these people leave. This is between us now."

"What are you talking about?" He was trembling now with a rage he hadn't felt in years.

 _"Accio!"_ Renae yelled, and the baby came across the room to land in her arms. Without pausing to look at Sabastian, she passed the baby to Mariah, her eyes a study in determination, sorrow and regret.

Mariah's first impulse was to run as fast and as far as she could, but that idea was quashed immediately. She couldn't leave Renae alone now. Meeting the eyes of her friends, she realized that none of them was willing to do so either, including Ron. Silently, she thanked him and told him again how much she loved him.

"You persuaded me?" Sabastian said harshly and with a trace of disbelief. "You had the audacity?"

"Yes, I did."

"But Mariah was to bear the Triuna, this child is female..."

"No, Sabastian," Renae said calmly. "Allison was to be connected to the Triuna, the Knower didn't know how. Everyone, including your mother, simply assumed her daughter would bear it. No one even considered that her son would father it."

"But I would have to be Bonded to a Diviner," Sabastian said in a dangerous whisper.

"You are," Renae said in the same low tone. She shifted her robes slightly to show him the band around her left wrist. "That mark has been there for years. At first, I persuaded you not to see it because I was afraid you wouldn't be happy, given your distaste for Diviners. But as you grew more and more obsessed with Mariah, you simply didn't notice it. You didn't notice a lot of things. It's a grand mistake to grow complacent and not remain aware of your surroundings, Sabastian."

Shifting her robes once again, Renae showed him, and the rest of them, the bulge that could only mean one thing. Renae was pregnant.

"I have known since the moment of conception that I carry the Triuna. But as I listened to your plans, your ravings about revenge, I kept my silence and kept you from noticing the changes in me. I let you continue to believe that Mariah carried, and then delivered the Triuna out of a hope that I could find a way to dissuade you from your path."

Sabastian didn't speak, but he was trembling from head to foot, hands clenching so tightly they had gone completely white.

Hermione had seen a rage that deep once before, in a cave when she was seventeen. She also knew that the same outcome was probably not far off. Praying with all of her might that her experiment with the spider hadn't been a fluke, Hermione raised her wand slightly and muttered the counter spell, protecting Renae.

"But your madness knew no boundaries, and no deterrence was to be found. I could only hope to go along and find another way out. But there wasn't any. There was no hope for me. I had done horrible things, terrorized women, kidnapped a baby...I had become just as low as you...lower.

"Mariah, I am eternally sorry for all the misery I have helped him inflict upon you. My poor judgment and lack of strength have meant great sorrow for you and I cannot ever hope to redeem myself. I only hope that you can one day find a way to forgive me."

"Renae?" the voice that summoned her attention was a deadly cold and vicious whisper.

She turned towards Sabastian, head held high, knowing what was coming; knowing that her plan had worked. She could see it in his mind, the hatred of having been duped by her for so long. The rage at having his plan thwarted and his revenge left unaccomplished.

Mariah must have sensed it as well, because she took a step towards Renae, only to have Hermione stop her with a hiss and a shake of her head.

Renae steadied herself as his wand raised towards her. She met his eyes one last time, determined to meet her death eye to eye and refuse the cowardice that had ruled her life for so long.

 __

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

The curse shook the very roof of the shack and all assembled closed their eyes to the blinding flash of green light that lit the room like lightning.

When they opened their eyes, it was not to find the scene they expected. Renae stood staring straight ahead, tears streaming down her cheeks, but alive. Sabastian, however, lay in a crumpled heap where he had been standing moments before. He was unmistakably dead.

No one moved. No one spoke. And then Harry turned to Hermione with a shocked expression and asked, "Why didn't you tell me you figured out the bloody counter?"

Harry's voice broke the veil of silence and everyone seemed to start speaking at once. Finally, Hermione raised her arms and the questions ceased.

"I figured it out just yesterday, Harry. About two seconds before Stephen came to tell me that he'd located Rianne."

"What counter?" asked Renae, who hadn't moved. She was still staring at Sabastian's motionless form.

Mariah passed Rianne to Ron and walked over to the woman who had been, once upon a time, her closest friend. "Why don't we leave here and discuss this in more pleasant surroundings?" she asked quietly, turning Renae so she couldn't see the body on the floor.

"I can't, Mariah. I wouldn't be welcome. I'm just very glad that you have your baby back. I did the best I could while she was in my care. And I'm so sorry for everything I've done, for all the pain I've caused."

Before Mariah could utter a protest, Renae walked over to the lifeless form of her Bond, placed a hand to his shoulder and Disapparated.

"Why would she take him with her?" Ginny asked what they were all wondering.

"Who knows what things love will cause us to do?" Mariah said softly, taking Rianne back from Ron and drawing her arms tight around the baby. "And she did love him. Bonds are very hard to manipulate without true emotion behind them."

Ron grinned at his fiancée and placed his arm around her shoulder and led them out of the shack. Once outside, they all stopped and inhaled deeply, letting the sweetness of the early summer air wipe away the dregs of anger that clung to them.

Paired off, the couples walked slowly down the incline towards Hogsmeade.

"Draco?" Harry asked nonchalantly. When Draco turned to him, Harry lobbed a clump of mud, hitting the former Slytherin once again right on the head.

"That's it, Potter. You're on," Draco grinned.

Mariah, Hermione and Ginny stood back and watched their wizards as they threw gobs of mud at one another, laughing and cursing loudly. It did Hermione's heart a world of good to see the unbridled joy in her husband, her best friend and..Draco. She still didn't quite have a term that described him.

"Should we stop them?" Ginny asked, smiling widely.

"After you," Mariah laughed as Ron's red hair turned a dark brown with one particularly well placed shot from Harry.

Ginny laughed out loud when Harry's latest effort hit Ron square in the face, and then doubled over suddenly, teeth clenched and arms wrapped around her middle. Draco was at her side in seconds.

"Gin?" he asked, dropping to his knees to meet her eyes.

"Hospital wing," she said in a low hiss.

^*^*^*^*^

Once again, Harry and Hermione found themselves waiting outside the hospital wing for news of a birth. This time, it felt a little more real as they were due to experience the other side of the door any day now.

Ron and Mariah simply sat on the low bench, talking quietly and playing with Rianne.

"Milord?"

Harry looked up to find Sir Stephen hovering a few feet away, wondering if there'd ever be a time that he didn't shiver at the word "milord".

"Sir Stephen. I was hoping to see you. We all," he indicated the four of them and waved his hand towards the oak door of the hospital wing, "wanted to thank you for your help."

"And for finding our baby," Ron said, voice thick with emotion as he and Mariah came over to join them.

"It was my great pleasure to be of assistance," the ghost said with a low bow. "And now it is with both great happiness and sadness that I must bid you farewell."

"Farewell?" Hermione asked, brow furrowing.

"As you know, ghosts are those trapped on Earth because of unfinished business. With me, it was regret over the cowardice I showed in life. My actions at the Shrieking Shack have freed my soul. And my lady has come to take me home."

Stephen stood aside and indicated a petite ghost standing a ways down the corridor. Even in death, the love was apparent between them. Hermione felt a pang in her heart for the reunited pair.

"You will be missed, Sir Stephen," Hermione said on an intake of breath as the pang in her heart became a stabbing pain in her abdomen.

They all watched as Stephen glided away towards the woman that waited, stifling giggles when they saw that the top of the small woman's head barely reached his shoulders.

And then Hermione screamed and the giggles stopped.

"Mione?"

But Hermione didn't answer. She was bent over, just as Ginny had been, and standing in a puddle of water.

"Well," Ron said as he hefted his sleeping daughter higher on his shoulder. "Poppy's going to have _her_ hands full tonight, isn't she?"


	12. Chapter 12

"Draco Malfoy," Ginny hissed through gritted teeth, "if you don't get out of my face, and quickly, you're going to be singing soprano for the rest of your bloody life."

Draco sighed. Never, even in his wildest imaginings, had he thought that the act of giving birth turned certain witches into...well, witches. From the moment she'd started having regular contractions, his normally smiling wife had turned into a sneering, snarling, vicious beast that would have scared a blast-ended skrewt. Longingly, he shot a gaze over to Harry and Hermione. _Once again, Potter gets all the luck_ , he thought as he watched Hermione quietly breathe through another contraction.

"Malfoy, get your arse over here," Ginny hissed contradictorily, and Draco sighed again. Every time he moved away, she called him back. And then she'd turn around and order him away again. But he knew she was enduring unbelievable pain in order to bring their child into the world, so he did as she ordered and tried his best to be supportive.

He would have laughed, however, if he'd known that across the hospital wing, Harry was having the same envious thoughts about him.

Harry could hear Ginny quite clearly as she panted and yelled. And somehow, that seemed more...right to him. Hermione's quiet whimpers and harsh breathing had him worried.

Just then, the oak door of the hospital wing flew open and in stormed Molly Weasley.

"Poppy," Molly said determinedly, tossing her robes to the side and rolling up her sleeves. "Don't even think you're going to ban me from the room this time."

Madam Pomfrey sighed in deep relief. "On the contrary, Molly, I am overjoyed to see you. Which do you want?"

"Mum?" Ginny said softly as another pain ebbed. Molly was at her side next second, taking a basin and sending Draco to fill it with lake water.

"Lake water?" he asked, brow knitting. He still wasn't on the best terms with his in-laws and couldn't help but see this as a ploy to get him away from their daughter. Not bloody likely. "If it's all the same to you, Mrs. Weasley, I'd rather not leave Gin right now."

"It's not all the same to me, Draco," Molly smiled what was probably the first genuine one she'd bestowed upon him. Then she turned her head towards Harry. "Harry, go with Draco and collect some water for me."

"Molly..." Harry began, but Molly cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"You both look as gray as a Hogwarts ghost. Labor will take a while, you know. It's not as if you're going to miss anything. Go outside and get some air. I won't have either of you passing out when the time comes. Now go. We can handle this."

Harry and Draco glanced at each other and then down to their wives. Both women gratefully waved their husbands off, each for her own reasons. With a great reluctance, they walked towards the heavy oak door.

Ron and Mariah were still sitting on the benches outside the hospital wing, Rianne gurgling in her Grandpa's arms. Ron saw the basins and grinned.

"Going for lake water? At least I went out the back way when Mariah was in labor...didn't want you guys thinking I couldn't take it."

"Shut it." Harry and Draco responded simultaneously, their voices too full of worry to show much disdain.

Draco's eyes lingered for the briefest of moments on his father-in-law. Would the man bestow the same affection on the child he and Ginny had made? After all, their child would carry the Malfoy surname. Would Arthur Weasley put aside a lifetime of animosity for a grandchild? A brief image of Ginny holding a baby and running after her father flitted through his mind's eye and Draco scowled.

 _He will if I have anything to say about it._ Draco took one step towards the older man. Just then, another of Ginny's heart wrenching screams made its way into the waiting area and tore straight through his soul. He immediately changed directions, back towards the hospital wing. Ron stopped him.

"It won't work, mate," Ron said with surprising gentleness. "I tried. She'll just kick you out again. Get some air; you look like you just saw McGonagall kissing Snape."

Batting _that_ mental image aside, and still a bit staggered that Ron had called him mate, Draco nodded once and followed Harry down the corridor. He cast a baleful eye at the basin. He knew it was just a ruse to get expectant fathers out of the labor room. But if getting lake water was part of the ritual, then lake water he'd get.

He'd figure out how to mend the breach between him and his father-in-law later.

*^*

"Now then, Hermione," Poppy said soothingly, using a cooling charm on the younger witch's forehead. "I want you to stop holding back. It hurts; I know it does. But you can't keep it bottled up any longer."

"I can and I will, Poppy," Hermione said breathlessly. "I won't have Harry knowing I'm in pain. It would devastate him."

Molly overheard this last statement and appeared at Hermione's side. "It always does, Hermione. They spend the entire labor period swearing they'll never touch you again, that they'll never put you through this again. Judging by the size of my family, you can tell that it's an empty threat. Let it out, Hermione. Harry will forget the moment the baby is placed in his arms."

"There are spells I can use..." Poppy suggested.

"No. I've read that there are sometimes side effects. I can do this."

"Of course you can, Hermione."

But just as she said it, it became harder to do. Hermione felt another spasm slam into her. All the breathing in the world wasn't going to soothe this pain, despite what the books said. But Harry wasn't here; he wouldn't be able to hear her from down by the lake. As the contraction hit its acme, Hermione let go.

Later, Poppy would remember being astonished that the ceiling hadn't dropped on their heads from the force of that scream.

*^*^*^*^

Ron and Mariah recoiled as Hermione's scream pierced the silence of the corridor. Arthur Weasley, having been down this road six times already, didn't even seem to notice. Mariah's eyes lingered on the oldest and youngest Weasley momentarily before cutting her attention back to her fiancé.

 _Ron, you've got to talk to him._

The look on Draco's face had not escaped either of their notice.

 _And what, exactly, do you want me to say, angel? "Dad, you really should stop scowling and shooting daggers at Ginny's husband? I know he's a Malfoy, but he's not all that bad?"_

 _Sure, you could say either of those things if you want to waste your breath,_ Mariah rolled her eyes. _But it would probably be much more effective if you reminded him that a woman choosing between her love and her family will most likely choose love. You can tell him he's on the verge of losing his only daughter._

Ron was just about to respond when a large tawny owl swooped down the corridor and dropped a small rolled parchment into Mariah's lap. Ron couldn't see what was written there, but he could see her face. And he could feel the shock.

 __

 _What is it?_

 _Nothing._

_

Bollocks to that, Mariah. I can read the look on your face...

_

Mariah cut him off without a word, without even a glance. She simply stood and walked down the corridor. _It's all right, Ron,_ he heard her as he watched the back of her grow smaller as she slipped from sight. _I love you._

Ron sighed. Trust her to cut his concerns away with two simple phrases. If she said it was all right, then it was all right. She would tell him when she could. For now, there were more pressing matters at hand than the secrets of the Diviners.

"Dad," Ron said quietly. He repeated himself a few times, getting louder with every attempt. Arthur's attention remained on his granddaughter. "Dad!"

"Mmmm?" Arthur responded absently. Ron remembered the sound clearly. It was shorthand for I hear your voice, but I have no idea what you just said. And he'd had quite enough of that.

With deft movements and a touch of stealth, Ron managed to retake his daughter. He conjured a pile of blankets and set the baby securely among them. Making sure her back was to his father, Ron sent a few trails of glitter from his wand spinning slowly over Rianne's head. She gurgled in baby ecstasy.

Once he knew she was secure and content, Ron turned towards Arthur.

"Now then," Arthur said with a smile. "What is so important that you had to take my granddaughter away from me?"

"Draco," Ron said simply. He still had a hard time believing he was about to stand up for Draco Malfoy...to his father. Would wonders never cease? But Mariah was right. When he'd looked over and seen the longing on Draco's face as he'd watched Rianne and her grandfather...and when he'd seen the longing switch to pain... well, he knew he had to do something. He just wasn't sure how effective that something would be.

"Ron..." his father began awkwardly.

The conflicting emotions running through Arthur's mind transferred to his face. He was the last holdout. Even Fred and George had made a grudging attempt to welcome Draco into the family. But Ron knew it was hard for his father to let go of such long held hatred. Because the man was a Malfoy. In Arthur Weasley's book, that said it all.

"Dad. I know what you're feeling. Exactly. Maybe even more, because I knew and hated Draco himself, not his father. Believe me, Dad. He is _not_ Lucius. Trust Ginny at least that far."

Ron saw his father open his mouth to protest and decided that this was the time for the big guns. "Can't you see that through your continued hatred of a dead man, you could lose her?"

"Ahem."

Draco's harsh cough stunned both Weasleys. Their red heads popped up in unison to face the man in question.

"I don't need you fighting my battles, Ron."

Draco went back through the heavy oak door without another word.

^*^*^*^*

"Okay, Ginny. We're almost there now." Molly used her wand to move the privacy screens more securely around her laboring daughter and muttered a silencing charm to keep Harry and Hermione from hearing the worst of labor's final stages. They'd know soon enough.

"You said that," Ginny panted, "hours ago."

Draco watched his mother-in-law, feeling an intense wave of gratitude that she was there with them. He had never felt so utterly helpless in his life. But Molly kept him from going insane by sending him off on useless errands and managing simple tasks. He knew that Molly could have summoned the towels, and that Ginny could have cared less if her hair was brushed...but the activity kept him from dwelling on his wife's pain. Draco supposed that was the point.

"Draco?" Molly said as the latest pain ebbed. "This is it. Are you ready to meet your baby?"

For the first time in what felt like days, Draco smiled.

"Now then," Molly began issuing orders. "I want you to sit behind Ginny. That's it. Legs on either side of her. Now, when I tell you, help her to sit forward. You'll do the counting. Count out loud to ten, pause for ten and then count aloud again. Understand?"

A wave of fear, excitement and apprehension filled his throat to the point that all he could do was nod.

"Ginny?" Molly said quietly, taking her daughter's hand. "You ready?"

"I've been ready for hours, Mum. You're the one that keeps telling me to wait. If you say 'not yet' one more time, I'll have your arse on a plate."

Molly only chuckled. "Then let's have a baby, shall we?"

In retrospect, it took a lot less time than he thought it would. Just as he got the hang of counting and supporting his wife, Ginny whimpered one last time, collapsed onto Draco's chest...and the lusty cry of a newborn filled the air.

"It's a boy."

He was still pondering those three little words when he saw his son for the first time. Only the truly farsighted could have called him anything other than red, wrinkled and...well...pruny. But he had never felt a feeling as intense as the love running through him at that moment.

Ginny sighed and Draco placed a kiss to her sweaty brow. "Little Lucius."

Even in her semi-exhausted state, Ginny found the strength to giggle. Molly, Draco noted, only drew in a deep breath of shock.

"Relax, Mum," Ginny yawned, her eyes fixed on their son, "he's kidding."

Mother-in-law and son-in-law met head on, eyes studying each other over the woman they both loved. Draco smiled. Molly smiled back. And another barrier went tumbling down.

Feeling just this side of invincible, Draco headed out towards the waiting area and his father-in-law. Not sure what to expect, he walked up to Arthur Weasley and nearly stepped back when the man stood.

"Draco? Is Ginny all right? And the baby?"

Draco tried his level best to keep his jaw from becoming unhinged at Arthur's use of his first name. "They're both fine, Mr. Weasley. We have a boy..." Draco's voice trailed off as those words truly hit him. As their full meaning crept through him. "I have a son...." He muttered, more to himself than to Arthur. And for that son, he thought, he would bury his pride.

A grudging smile tugged on the corners of Arthur's mouth, but he stopped the smile before the other man saw it. It was one thing to commiserate with a new father, but quite another when the new father was a Malfoy.

"Mr. Weasley?" Draco's voice was only a whisper, but it still rang in Arthur's ears.

"Yes?"

"I have a favor to ask you." The younger man raised his eyes. "I know you don't think much of me...of anyone with the surname Malfoy. But I'm asking you, for Ginny's sake, could you try and not let that show? Could you forget that when you're with her? We both love her, Mr. Weasley. And I'm asking you to please not make her choose."

Arthur wasn't sure which bothered him most, the impassioned plea from Lucius Malfoy's son, or the word "please" coming from a Malfoy to a Weasley. In that moment, he realized that the love between his daughter and her husband was as real, and as true, as the one he shared with Molly.

Deciding that words weren't necessary, and near to impossible due to the lump in his throat, Arthur clapped a hand onto Draco's shoulder, squeezed once, and walked past him into the hospital wing.

"Congratulations, Draco," Mariah said from behind him. Draco merely nodded, then slumped into a nearby chair. A thousand thoughts were running through him. Ginny, his son, his in-laws, his son, Ginny. There wasn't room for speech in a mind that crowded.

"What do you reckon's concerning him most?" Ron grinned, "fatherhood or Dad?"

They looked at the man in question again, then back at each other.

"Both," they replied in unison.

Still chuckling, they greeted Professor Dumbledore as he joined them. Ron moved towards him, intent on informing him of the progress so far. But the look on his former Headmaster's face froze his words.

"What is it?"

"We have a problem, Ron." Dumbledore said, his face grim but a twinkle lighting the blue eyes behind the spectacles.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Just as Molly had when Ginny reached the final stages of labor, Poppy placed silencing charms and privacy screens around them and gave Harry a number of busywork tasks to keep his mind off his wife.

They weren't working. Hermione could tell they weren't. As always, his eyes gave truth to his thoughts. Even when she hadn't remembered him, those eyes had stayed with her. And the sharp green of them mirrored the internal struggle within him.

"I'm okay, you know," Hermione panted out during a brief respite from the back to back contractions.

"You're not. You're in pain."

"The pain will go away, Harry. And we'll have our child to help us forget. Focus on that, Harry. Think about the baby."

She felt the telltale signs of another contraction, but was comforted somewhat by the relaxing of the creases on his forehead. "Poppy?" she panted, as she felt something different with this pain...something urgent.

Poppy placed her hand on Hermione's bulging stomach and smiled. "The pains have shifted?"

"Yes," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Then let's meet your baby," Poppy smiled as she positioned herself to help the child into the world.

Hermione sat forward with Harry's help and strained with all the energy she could muster. A small part of her was afraid she didn't have the strength left to help her baby be born. She'd never guessed that labor could be so exhausting. How was she supposed to do this? There was nothing left...

"You can do it, Mione. I know you can."

Harry's voice, whispered in her ear, slid through her entire body like a phoenix tear. Where she had been empty, she felt full. Her exhaustion turned to pure energy. Her doubt turned to resolve. And with one final effort, the newest Potter arrived at Hogwarts.

Hands clasped and breathing labored, they watched Poppy's deft movements and waited. The baby was crying in outrage, but they couldn't see it yet. Harry had a flash of a remembered dream, of a scene in a graveyard. Suddenly, it became too much to bear.

"Well?" Harry said, slightly exasperated and slightly worried.

Poppy grinned wildly and passed Hermione a tightly wrapped bundle. Then she walked away, a stray tear escaping down her normally stern face.

With a gentleness just shy of reverence, Harry helped Hermione unwrap the baby. They counted fingers and toes, examined every inch of their baby and smiled.

"Hello, Jamie," Harry said quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of the baby's head. And then he pressed another to the top of Hermione's. She eased over on the bed, making room, and father, mother and child rested, secure in the bosom of a family newly formed.

^*^*^*^*^

"Reporters?" Poppy exclaimed in disbelief.

"Reporters, Poppy," Dumbledore sighed. "I'm not sure how they found out, but that makes little difference at this point. They began arriving at the gates an hour ago, and the tide shows no sign of ebbing. I've placed them in the Great Hall."

"But why...?"

"Think about it, Poppy," Ron said knowingly. "The Boy Who Lived has a baby. The Couple That Survived start a new generation. The headlines are being formed as we speak. And I know they expected this."

"Yes, they did," Mariah agreed. "Although I'm not sure they expected the vultures to descend quite so rapidly. They want to stay in the background as much as possible, so Ron is going to make the announcement. _After_ their families have arrived."

A positively horrid thought crossed Ron's mind. "Rita Skeeter isn't here, is she?"

"Well, that depends on your definition of 'here'," Dumbledore chuckled. At the puzzled looks, he continued, "She is in Hogsmeade, I believe. But she has not been allowed access into the grounds. She will be scooped by every reporter in the wizarding world."

"Excellent," Ron grinned.

"Ron? Mariah?"

All heads turned toward Harry, standing at the entrance to the hospital wing, a goofy new father grin making his face radiate a light of its own.

Without another word, Mariah passed Rianne to her grandmother and joined Ron as they followed Harry to Hermione's bed. By mutual consent, Ron and Harry hung back to let Mariah reach the bedside first.

Her gaze lingered on the wrapped bundle. "And who have we here?"

"Our daughter, Jamie," Hermione beamed, pulling the swaddling blanket away from the sleeping baby's face.

"Oh Hermione," Mariah said around the tears of happiness, "she's just beautiful. And I love her name. What a wonderful way to carry on Harry's father's name."

Hermione's eyes met her husband's. He winked. "She's not named after my dad," Harry said, barely keeping the emotion from his voice as he moved to stand on Hermione's other side.

"She's not?" Mariah asked, confused.

"No," Hermione said. She took her friend's hand tightly. "Perhaps I should have properly introduced her. This is Jamison Potter."

The only sound that broke the silence was Mariah's sharp intake of breath. "Oh..." was all she could manage. Hermione passed the baby to her namesake and didn't even try to stem the tears spilling from her eyes like water from a sieve.

"We wanted to thank you..." Hermione began, but found herself unable to continue.

"It seemed fitting that she have your name..." Harry tried to continue for Hermione, but the lump in his throat made it difficult.

Both were gearing up for a second attempt when the sound of the heavy oak door being thrown open shook the room.

"Harry? Hermione?"

Sirius stood, dark and impressive, at the entrance, scanning the two groups. The odd mixture of Weasleys and Malfoys was on one side, while Harry and Hermione were on the other. Harry met him halfway and the two shared a bone jarring embrace. To those watching, it lasted only seconds. To the participants, it seemed to span a lifetime.

"Want to see your granddaughter?"

Years ago, he'd seen a similar smile on his godfather's face, Harry thought. But this time, it lasted longer than it had inside that tunnel. Because this time, there were no dementors waiting for them. This time, Sirius was truly a free man. And nothing haunted either of them any more.

Mariah graciously passed Jamie to her grandfather.

"I...," he started hoarsely. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I can still remember the day you were born. Remus and I Apparated straight to Godric's Hollow the moment James' owl arrived, and I...I saw you hours after you were born. She's you, Harry."

Silence shrouded the hospital wing as each occupant dealt with the emotion of that statement.

Slowly, the silence dwindled. Draco and Ginny broke it first, when they brought their son Morgan over to meet his cousin. The arrival of the Grangers added to the cacophony. By the time Ron had gone down to inform the press, the hospital wing sounded more like Platform 9 � on September 1.

Over the next few hours, there were a few more tears, a lot more laughter...and a sense of family the likes of which Harry Potter had never known.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Two Months Later

"Did Ginny ever get back to you about that trip?" Harry asked over his daughter's head as he fed her a morning bottle.

"No, she said she'd be owling me the information this morning, though."

Jamie used her small tongue to push the bottle from her mouth and squirmed. With a knowledge born of habit, Harry cradled his daughter on his shoulder. She rewarded him with a resounding belch.

"Quite unladylike of you, love," Harry crooned into her ear before easing her back down into his arms to finish her breakfast.

The first two months of parenthood had passed with a great deal of trial and error. They seemed to be getting the hang of it, though. These days there weren't nearly as many trials and even fewer errors. Neither had expected it to be easy, nor had they expected it to be this rewarding. The thrill of a smile, the joy of a full night's sleep, it all came down to the little things.

Not long after Jamie's arrival, they had taken a house on the fringes of Hogsmeade. As neither was a head of house, they were not required to live at Hogwarts. They both loved the castle, but at the same time, they wanted a home of their own. The little three bedroom cottage suited them perfectly. It was large enough to give Jamie room to play once she became mobile and small enough for two full time teachers to handle without undue stress.

Hermione stumbled into the kitchen, her hair a wild tangle of curls. "You look adorably mussed, love," Harry grinned.

"And whose fault is that?" she answered primly but with a wicked gleam in her eye.

She had just crossed to kiss her husband and daughter when a screech owl fluttered through the open window and dropped a rolled piece of paper in front of Harry before retreating the way it had come.

"Must be from Ginny." Hermione blew on her tea to cool it, reaching over to unroll it. _It's paper, not parchment, though._ The thought, from the inner recesses of her mind barely had time to register before the words written there shoved all other thoughts aside.

"Harry..." she trailed off.

"What?" he looked up sharply, the tone of her voice sending a shiver down his spine.

She didn't answer. Instead, Hermione turned the section of a Muggle newspaper towards Harry.

 ** __**

 ** _Family of four dies in Little Whinging Fire_**

_

Vernon Dursley, his wife Petunia, their son Dudley and his wife Druscilla, all of Number 4 Privet Drive, perished in an apparent electrical fire in the early hours of the morning... Fire Captain Horace Smatt had no comment. But sources inside the fire department...

_

Harry didn't get any further. The Dursleys were dead. All of them. True, he'd divorced himself from them long ago, but now they were gone. For good. Forever.

Numbness stole over him, broken only by Hermione's hand on his shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Hermione. They were dead to me a long time ago."

Hermione felt a ripple of fear shimmy down her spine. The words might be different, but the tone was the exact same as when he'd told her he was fine after seeing her with Draco. She needed to get him talking, and she needed to do it now.

"Love?"

Harry said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the newspaper while his hands tightened on Jamie. Hermione took the baby and laid her in the nearby baby carrier. Then she took those still clenching hands in hers.

"Talk to me, Harry. Please."

She wasn't sure what she'd expected when his green eyes finally fixed on hers. But it wasn't pain.

"Why should I care?" Harry said in a low hiss. "Why does it hurt that their dead, Hermione? They never gave me anything except a roof over my head and food in my stomach. Hell, not even that, sometimes. Lies, abuse, neglect. That's all the Dursleys ever gave me. So why the hell do I give a rat's arse that they're dead?"

"Because, Harry, as horrible as they were, they were the only family you knew. You'd be made of stone if you didn't feel anything." She could see it, the confusion, and the grief, hovering near the corners of his eyes.

"But I shouldn't...I...It..." and the tears came. Just a few, tracing a lonely path down his cheeks and coming to rest on their joined hands. Next moment, Harry had her in his arms, screwing up his face against the tidal wave of emotion threatening to overtake him. Hermione sensed it...the sudden stiffness. He was trying to close off again. Damned if she'd let him.

"Let it out, Harry. Scream, rage, curse the sofa into a thousand pieces. Let it out love, and then you can let them go."

Harry was silent for quite some time. He remained in Hermione's arms. She could feel his tears on her shoulder. And she could feel his arms tighten and release as he dealt with his feelings. When he pulled back, she was almost afraid to look into his eyes. She was terrified she'd see that blank stare again.

But Harry Potter was smiling. A smile that reached his eyes and touched her to the depth of her soul.

As the morning wore on and Harry slowly accustomed himself to the news that his only living relatives were dead, one thought kept trying to break free. An issue that made no sense, but didn't quite make it to his conscious mind:

Who had sent the newspaper clipping?

~fin~


End file.
